"That remains to be seen," answered the Little Captain as she handed
one of the ancient oars to Mollie. "There is one thing we shall have
to remember, Mollie," she said, as they pushed clear of the bank and
glided out into the swift water of the river, "and that is to keep far
enough this side of the falls to guard against being swept over it.
Bear hard on your right hand, Mollie honey. It wouldn't be much fun if
we upset here, you know."
"Oh!" gasped Grace, holding fast to the side of the boat and noting
with dismay how plainly the roar of the falls came to them. "I wish we
had another oar, I'd help--"
"You can help most, Gracie," cut in the Little Captain briskly, "by
keeping your nerve and helping us to keep ours. Mollie," she called in
a whisper that carried the length of the boat, "can you see-- It--
yet?"
"Yes," Mollie telegraphed back in the same tense whisper. "It's got
its back to us, I think."
"Good," said Betty softly, adding as she threw all her weight against
her oar, "now let's keep still and work."
It was queer how they referred to that presence at the head of the
falls as "It.
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