Dawn found them at the entrance to Grand Bay, the largest body of water in the entire river.  From here a long close-hauled tack would bring them to the Narrows, a rocky gorge-like formation leading to the noted Reversible Falls below.  The tide now was running down, and this greatly aided the boat in her onward sweep.  Far away in the east the sky rapidly reddened, and the light of a new day was dispelling the shades of night.  Eben’s heart caught the glow of the rising sun, and a spirit of elation possessed him.  He had brought the boat in safety this far, and in another hour he hoped to have her tied up at one of the wharves, ready to slip through the falls when the tide served.

Just before entering the Narrows, Eben called Donaster up from the cabin.  He had to shout several times before he received any response, for the man had fallen asleep in his chair.  He stumbled sleepily on deck and looked around.

“Why, we’re almost to the city!” he exclaimed.

“Sure.  Ye didn’t imagine we was tied up to a tree, did ye?”

Donaster walked to the side of the boat and looked over.

“I forgot all about the motor-boat last night,” he remarked.  “But I see it hung fast all right.”

“An’ a wonder it did,” Eben replied.  “The rope must have been a good one.  It held better ’n the anchor.  Guess it’s gone fer sure.”

“Chain break?” Donaster queried.

“Something’s gone, that’s certain.  We’re not draggin’ the anchor, anyway.  We couldn’t git this fer with the anchor towin’ below.  It would have caught in something or other an’ brought us up if it had been there.  But it ain’t there.  The chain must have snapped an’ let the boat go adrift.  It broke once before an’ dad fixed it with a piece of wire.  Now we’ve got to buy a new anchor, an’ mebbe a new chain.  It doesn’t pay to botch things, does it?”

Donaster made no reply, but stood looking straight before him.  He had not heard Eben’s words, for his mind was upon matters of more importance to him than an old chain and anchor.  They were gliding down the Narrows now, the wind and current bearing them rapidly along.  They had reached the first turn and had swung sharply to the left, when the first glimpse of the city appeared to view.  In another quarter of an hour they hoped to be at one of the wharves, and the boat tied up.

The current was much swifter now, and Eben was becoming anxious.  He knew the danger of the place, and hitherto his father had always piloted the “Eb and Flo” through the Narrows.  If the breeze would only hold, he could easily make thee wharf.  Should it fail, there would be serious trouble as the current would bear them rapidly down to the falls.  But so far the wind served, and the boat sped steadily forward.  A few minutes more and the wharf would be reached.  Eben felt quite safe now, and the anxious expression disappeared from his face.