turned, threw Mike a wink and swung into his raft. A second later he was floating out from shore. The older boy pushed off directly behind Sandy.

With Sandy in the lead, the two rafts shot toward the narrow opening of Dog Leg Falls. From where he stood, Mike could see that Sandy was holding the course Doug had charted. The tiny raft trembled and tugged to the right, but Sandy held her steady.

Mike felt a small hand grip his elbow with surprising strength. “He’s going in just right.” Doug’s voice was breathless with excitement.

Mike nodded and leaned forward. “Come on, Sandy,” he heard himself murmur. “You’re doing great.” Suddenly the two rafts disappeared in a boiling cloud of white spray. His muscles stiff with tension, Mike strained to pick out the bobbing rafts.

Doug spotted them before he did. “He’s okay!” he shouted. “That’s it, Sandy!”

Mike saw them the next instant. They were both leaning into the dangerous turn. Sandy’s raft hugged the left-hand side of the channel, well away from the sharp wall of rocks to his right. In another moment, he would be through. Mike felt his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands as he mentally fought the white water along with Sandy.

“He’s rounding it! There’s room to spare!” Beside him, Doug was dancing with excitement. “Look at him go!”

Suddenly there was a gasp from the boys crowded along the shore. Mike’s eyes widened with horror. The boy behind Sandy had stopped steering his raft. He had shifted his position and was leaning ahead recklessly, a paddle in his outstretched hand.

“What’s he doing?” Mike yelled.

“He’s trying to tip Sandy over!” Doug shouted. His voice trailed off as he watched the paddle snake out and jab at Sandy’s raft.

Mike stared with growing uneasiness as the two rafts slowly began to spin. Faster and faster they whipped around, both boys now trying desperately to keep their balance and stay on course.

At that distance, with both rafts floundering through towering walls of water, it was difficult to tell which raft was Sandy’s. Mike fought down an impulse to yell a warning when he saw one of the rafts steadily tip higher in the water.

“He’s going to spill!” came a cry.

 Prev. P 19/97 next