And so it proved. A steep flight of
steps was cut in a deep cleft of the cliff down to the water's edge.
A few minutes after they had begun the descent, the little party stood
on the brink of the whirling pool into which the mighty falls roared
their thousands of tons of water. Following M. Desplaines, they
advanced down the stream to a point where a bend shut off like a
rock curtain the deafening uproar of the cascade. Here a canoe lay
moored and Frank and Harry stepped into it and shoved off. Their
lines and other equipment they had in their pockets.
As they shoved out M. Desplaines shouted something that they did not
catch and pointed down the stream. How near the fact that they
could not hear his words was to come to costing them their lives
neither of the boys guessed.
CHAPTER V
THE POOL OF DEATH
"Say, Frank, have you noticed that we are going to have a hard
paddle back against this current?"
The boys had been fishing about an hour when Harry spoke. So
engrossed had they both been pulling in fish of a dozen strange
varieties and brilliant hues that neither of the lads had noticed
that the canoe had drifted down stream far from the starting point
and that in fact when they looked up they were in an entirely
strange part of the river.
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