88 Snapshots from the North Paevrfe.

been full of the goodness of the Lord. Nine times I have
ascended the Skeena River by canoe: this time by steamer.
The unexpected has happened. I thought the fierce rapids
would baffle science, which has really scored a victory. Some
of the rocky impediments have been removed by dynamite,
but even now the struggle is fierce. The ship’s. speed
of fourteen knots an hour allows her to drop astern hopelessly.
In the swiftest places strong cables hooked to ring-bolts in
the rocks are hove in on the steam capstan, when slowly
inch by inch science masters blind force and surmounts the
down rush of the torrent.

“ But the swiftness is a difficulty rather than a peril. Not
so the whirls and cross currents at the confluence of some
of the largest tributaries. At these points skill and nerve
are summoned to the contest, and exciting it really is. Let
me try to describe one such. I was in the pilot house by
permission. Charley, an Indian, is at the wheel, and the
captain with his binocular surveying the water ahead.
‘There she is, that nasty Copper river. What do you think
of her, Charley?’ asks the captain. But Charley deliberates
as he gazes on the murky torrent sweeping into the hehter
Skeena. ‘Black and white’ is the best English he can
muster to speak his thoughts. Like a dark arrow it sped
into the main river, curving downwards at last until
suddenly checked by some rocks which broke it into angry
waves that danced past. ike a living frill of foam embracing
them. We have to ‘venture between this turbulent
stream and those grim rocks. Slowly at half-speed we creep
towards the difficulty, storing up power for use at the critical
moment. Three,strong men are stationed at the wheel, which
controls three rudders close to the great stern paddle-wheel.
The steam presses 140lbs. to the square inch. All is ready.
Fenders hang over the bow and port side. We edge up to
the cross current and the signal is given, ‘ Full steam ahead.’
The ship seems to leap into the torrent. Words now are
useless, drowned by the dashing water’s roar. The captain’s
jaws seem firmly locked together, his eye measuring the