Had They Been Too Foolhardy In Their Struggle With The Terrible Stream?

Had they, too, been made to feel its power?

My guess was near the truth; and yet there was that awful river unchanged, glittering, surging, beautiful, exactly as on so many days before, when life on it had seemed so bright.

"At three in the afternoon, I saw a fly crawl down the rocks a mile away. I fed the fire and heated up the food and tea. In twenty minutes I could see that it was Rob, but both his hands were empty. 'If they had found it,' I said to myself, 'they would send it back first thing, and if he had it, he would swing it aloft,' Yet no, nothing but a shiny tin was in his hands and the blow had fallen. The suspense was over, anyway. I bowed my head, 'We have done what we could.'

"Rob came slowly up, worn out. In his hand a tin of baking-powder. Across his breast was a canvas band. He tottered toward me, too tired to speak in answer to my unspoken question, but he turned and there on his back was the canvas bag that held labour of all these long toilsome months.

"'I got 'em, all right,' he managed to say, smiling in a weak way.

"'And the boys?'

"'All right now.'

"'Thank God!' I broke down, and wrung his hand; 'I won't forget,' was all I could say. Hot tea revived him, loosened his tongue, and I heard the story.

"I knew,' he said, 'what was first to save when I seen you got ashore. Me and Billy we run like crazy, we see dat bag 'way out in the deep strong water. De odder tings came in de eddies, but dat bag it keep 'way out, but we run along de rocks; after a mile it came pretty near a point, and Billy, he climb on a rock and reach out, but he fall in deep water and was carried far, so he had to swim for his life. I jump on rocks anoder mile to anoder point; I got ahead of de bag, den I get two logs, and hold dem between my legs for raft, and push out; but dat dam river he take dem logs very slow, and dat bag very fast, so it pass by. But Billy he swim ashore, and run some more, and he make a raft; but de raft he stick on rock, and de bag he never stick, but go like hell.

"'Den I say, "Here, Billy, you give me yo' sash," and I run tree mile more, so far I loss sight of dat bag and make good raft. By'mebye Billy he come shouting and point, I push out in river, and paddle, and watch, and sure dere come dat bag. My, how he travel! far out now; but I paddle and push hard and bump he came at raft and I grab him.

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