CHAPTER XXI.

SHOOTING THE LONGUE SEAUT.

That evening the boys visited the "Springs" proper, and drank of the waters which were supposed to be of a quality to restore all wasted faculties of mind and body. The taste, however, was anything but agreeable to the lads, which was explained to them by the fact that none of their vital forces had been wasted, and, therefore, there was no craving for that which would supply their deficiencies.

They were interested in the stories which were told them of the good old times before the introduction of railroads and similar modern contrivances, when people from far and near used to journey to the springs in pursuit of restored youth and strength, stories which "reminded" Bob of the efforts of the early discoverers to find the fountain of youth in the far-off land of Florida.

He was compelled to postpone his lecture, however, for the boys decided to retire at once, and soon all four were sleeping soundly in the "tavern" which Ethan had recommended.

Only the gray of the dawn had appeared when they were summoned in the morning, and hastily dressing, they made their way to the dining room, where an early breakfast was served them. Their carriage was in waiting for them even at that early hour, and soon they were riding back to the Landing, where boats and boatmen were to be ready for them, if Ethan's plans were fulfilled.

The driver explained to them on their way that the day was not to be a very good one for fishing, for it gave promise of being bright and intensely warm. The latter prophecy was the more difficult to believe, for the boys felt the chill of the early morning, although each had brought an overcoat for protection.

The impression of the great age of the region seemed to be stronger in the early hours even than it had been in the preceding evening. The stillness was almost oppressive. Anything like the bustle and stir of the great city was almost like the memory of a dream. Here, at least, were peace and quiet, and even the problems of life itself were all remote and vague. As they drew nearer the river, from some of the farmhouses the occupants came forth and stopped for a moment to gaze at the passing carriage, and then turned to the barnyards where the cattle were waiting to be milked. Men and women, boys and girls, all came forth to engage in this occupation, and all alike seemed to have been there for years, and to belong to the very antiquity of the region.

Keenly as the boys were enjoying the ride, they all seemed to be disinclined to talk, and the first break in the silence came when the flash of the great river was perceived beyond the distant trees. Soon they came to a spot from which the swiftly moving waters could be more clearly seen, and then their driver turned into the road which ran along the bank, and the river was all the time within sight.

It was a marvellously impressive scene. The glory of the coming day was almost upon them. The fertile farm-lands, the thriving farmers, the cattle huddled together near the barns, or already trailing off for the distant pastures, driven, perhaps, by some barefooted boy; the evidences of life and civilization on all sides, were supplemented by the swiftly moving waters of the mighty river from which they were seldom able to remove their gaze.

It was not long afterward when they arrived at the Landing, and all other thoughts were forgotten in the eagerness with which they looked before them to discover some trace of their boatmen.

These were speedily found, and as they declared that all things were in readiness for the expedition of the day, our boys were soon on board the skiffs, which were as beautiful and shapely as those they had seen and used among the Thousand Islands.

Jock and Bob were assigned to one skiff, in which their boatman, George, was waiting. He was a young man of quiet manners, and his companions at once had a feeling of implicit confidence in him as he quietly greeted them. Ben and Bert were in the other skiff, and with their boatman, a much older man than George, were the first to leave the dock, and soon had disappeared from the sight of their friends as they moved swiftly down the river.

Jock and Bob soon followed, and as George rowed out with the current, he said, quietly, "You might as well put out your lines, boys. You never can tell what'll happen."

He rested a moment upon his oars, and after baiting the hooks with frogs, cast the lines into the water and, taking up his oars, again held the boat closer to the shore, and prevented it from moving too fast in the swift current.

The rods, as Ethan had foretold, were very different from those which the boys had previously used. They were short, stout hickory poles, and the reels were several times as large as the ones to which they had been accustomed. Indeed, they seemed like small wheels, four or five inches in diameter; but as Jock settled back into his chair in the stern and began to pay out his line, he could see that Bob, whose chair was on the other side of the boatman, was as content as he, and no questions were asked.

For a time the boys gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the morning, after George had declared that they had enough line out. The sun was now to be seen above the eastern horizon, and was flooding the earth with its glory. Birds were singing in the bushes on the shore, the sparkling waters were rushing on with unabated speed, and the beautiful skiff seemed to be a part of the scene itself, and almost to belong to the river. George was watching the lines of the boys, though they themselves were unmindful of them, as the boat was carried forward by the stream.

Suddenly Jock felt a gentle tug at his line and turned sharply about. The pull was not repeated, but as he glanced at George questioningly, the boatman nodded his head and Jock began to reel in his line. He soon discovered that something was pulling sturdily back, but he reeled steadily, and as he glanced down into the water, he could see a fish fast to his hook.

"Pike," said George, quietly. "Reel him in. Be careful! Don't give him any slack. There! That's the way," he added, as with a quick movement of his gaff he drew the struggling fish on board.

"He's a beauty!" exclaimed Jock, delightedly. "What'll he weigh, George?"

"Oh, four or five pounds, perhaps. You'll see some bigger ones than that if we have any luck to-day. 'Tisn't a very good day for fishing, though."

He resumed his labors with the oars, but both boys were alert now, and were waiting for the welcome tug which would indicate that the longed for strike had been made.

Bob was the next to reel in his line, and to his delight he discovered that he too had a pike, though not so large as that of his friend. Several fish were caught by each of the boys as they went down the stream, and for the time the thoughts of the rapids were forgotten in the excitement of the present occupation.

"This fishing doesn't amount to much," said George, quietly, as he removed Jock's latest catch. "When we get below the rapids yonder we'll be more likely to find 'em."

At his words the boys glanced up, and the sight before them almost drove the color from their faces. Far in advance they could see the tossing waters of the Longue Seaut Rapids. A whirling mass of water seemed to stretch away in the distance as far as they could see. The waves tossed and rose and fell, and the air was filled with clouds of spray. The rocks along the shore were at times almost hidden from sight as the mad river dashed against them. A roaring sound seemed to fill the air, and already the boat appeared to feel the quickened movement of the river, for all about them the St. Lawrence was moving forward, swift and silent, as if it, too, had drawn in its breath for that fearful plunge into the tossing, heaving, boiling, boisterous mass before it.

Not far in advance they could see a great island, which seemed to present a point to the advancing river. At all events the waters divided there, and along each side went rushing on to the calmer regions below.

"Whew!" said Jock, drawing a long breath. "Then that's the Longue Seaut, is it?"

"Yes," replied George, quietly, as if the awe-inspiring sight produced no impression upon him.

"You don't mean to say we're going through that in this skiff?" inquired Bob.

"Yes."

"Is it safe? Can you make it?"

"Yes."

"We go to the right of the island, don't we?" said Jock, in a low voice.

"Yes."

"This side is what they call the Little Seaut, isn't it?" he inquired.

"Yes."

The boys glanced nervously again at the seething waters in the distance. The fact that they were to go through the "Little" Seaut, instead of the Big, did not seem to afford any great amount of comfort; but neither spoke, and their boatman, they had already discovered, was very different from Ethan, and not inclined to conversation of any kind.

"You'd better reel in your lines, boys," said George, quietly.

"I thought you said this was where the fish were," said Jock, nevertheless beginning to reel in as the boatman directed.

"No. Down below the rapids. The fish work up into the bays and lie there for what they want to come down the stream, and then they dart out and get it. I'm going to land here for a moment."

He sent the boat ashore, and the boys eagerly watched him as he took a light pole and went out to one of the projecting rocks. There he fished for a few minutes, and after he had secured a half-dozen good-sized "chubs," he returned to the place on the shore where the boys were waiting for him and said,--

"Get aboard, now. We'll shoot the rapids, though I haven't as many of the chubs as I wish I had. It's too bright and warm a day."

Both boys could testify to the latter fact, as they resumed their seats on board, Their faces were streaming with perspiration, though as a matter of fact the warm rays of the sun had little to do with that. They could not remove their gaze from that terror-inspiring scene, and as George drew back his sleeves and grasped his oars, they, too, unconsciously grasped the sides of the boat as if they were seeking for some protection.

No one spoke now, and soon the little skiff was caught in the current and began to dart forward with ever-increasing speed. George's face was set and hard, and he, too, occasionally glanced behind him as if he was striving to get his bearings.

On and on moved the swift-flying skiff, and then, almost before the boys were aware of it, they were caught in the foaming rapids and swept forward with incredible speed. The boatman was not rowing now, only striving, with an occasional use of one oar, to keep the bow of the skiff pointed straight down the river.

A moment later and they were in the midst of the roar, and the swiftly moving skiff increased its speed. Jock was aware of Bob's white countenance, and somehow felt rather than saw that the trees and rocks along the shore were rushing rapidly past them. He had no thought of time. He was too excited even to feel afraid. The boat was darting madly forward, and almost before he was aware of it they had gained the foot of the island, and there he discovered that the two parts of the rapids came together and the loud roaring became deeper and stronger.

Out into the united channel the frail skiff was swept, and then the current bore them with the speed of a race-horse straight across the river, till it seemed as if nothing could save them from being dashed upon the rocks that lined the opposite shore.

George had not spoken since they had entered the rapids, and, indeed, the roar of the rushing waters would probably have drowned the sound of his voice had he tried to speak aloud to his companions. He was, however, constantly alert, and with an occasional quick strong pull upon one of his oars, kept the boat headed aright.

Just before the skiff came to the shore, and it seemed as if nothing could save them, there was a sharp turn in the current. Instantly George drove one oar deep into the water, and putting forth all his strength, brought the skiff aright, and then it dashed forward down the stream.

There was a grating sound as the boat touched a rock that came close up to the surface, but as the boys, with still paler faces, glanced over the sides to look at the bottom, they were swept onward, and in a moment the peril was passed.

Soon the waters were calmer, and though running swiftly, were not so boisterous, and the tossing waves were all behind them. As Jock glanced back it seemed to him that they had come down a hill of water; but before him the river apparently had resumed its peaceful aspect, and the danger had been passed.

"That was a close call," said Jock, with a sigh of relief. "When we struck that rock I thought we were done for. Weren't you frightened, George?"

"No."

"But what would have happened if it had made a hole in the boat?"

"We'd have sunk."

"We could have swum with the current, I think," said Bob.

"No, you couldn't," said George. "You'd have been sucked under in a minute."

"Whew!" whistled Bob. "I'm glad we've been through the Longue Seaut, but I don't believe I care to do it again."

"Where are the other boys?" inquired Jock, quickly. "They were ahead of us. You don't suppose they've had any accident, do you, George?"

"No; they're down in that bay you can see ahead of us."

"Is that where we're going?"

"No, we'll stop here," replied George. "If we don't have any luck, then we'll go on down where they are. That's the best place along the river."

George turned the skiff, and with a few short, powerful strokes, sent the boat into the quiet waters. Almost as if a line had been drawn, across which no waters could pass, the quiet place in the river was separated from the rushing current. It seemed strange and almost unnatural, but the dividing line was plainly to be discerned, and, besides, the skiff was as motionless as if it had been resting on a sheltered pond.

To make them still more secure, however, George dropped the anchor overboard, and then baiting the hooks with the large chubs, threw them into the water close to the dividing line, and resuming his seat, waited to test the "luck" which was to be had in still-fishing in this sheltered spot.