The boys put in a couple of hours repairing the canoe, then they
studied the river in hopes of recovering the guns. How well the
river-men seemed to know it! Its every ripple and curl told them
a story of the bottom and the flood.
"There must be a ledge there," said Billy, "just where we upset.
If the guns went down at once they are there. If they were carried
at all, the bottom is smooth to the second ledge and they are
there." He pointed a hundred yards away.
So they armed themselves with grappling-poles that had nails for
claws. Then we lowered Rob in the canoe into the rapid and held on
while he fished above the ledge.
"I tink I feel 'em," said Rob, again and again, but could not bring
them up. Then Billy tried.
"Yes, they are there." But the current was too fierce and the hook
too poor; he could not hold them.
Then I said: "There is only one thing to do. A man must go in at
the end of the rope; maybe he can reach down. I'll never send any
man into such a place, but I'll go myself."
So I stripped, padded the track-line with a towel and put it around
my waist, then plunged in.
