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Show 92 "No." "What then?" I was trying hard to be patient. She had been harping about the rapids every day since we left the Whitehorse. Now she just sat on top of the supplies, hugging her knees, looking at me with her big eyes, the color of glacier water. lfYou like them, don't you?" she asked. "Rapids." I looked at her, surprised. "Yes, I guess I do. It's in my blood. How did you know?" "Well"-she smiled broadly-"it must be in mine, too." We sailed fearlessly toward the Five Finger Rapids, four ominous black rocks towering in the middle of the river. The water surged around them in five channels-like fingers. I grabbed the map in my pocket and read: Hug the right cliff. With all my strength I steered to the right. And we headed straight for the rock wall. "We're going to hit," Tip screamed. Just when we thought we would crash, a crosscurrent turned the raft and bounced it through the middle channel as if pulled by a rope. I was speechless with fright. Crazy Tip hollered, "Now how far to Rink Rapids?" "I'll ask the Mounties," I said, reaching for the crumpled map. That started us laughing, and we laughed all the way to |
