above the rapids.  Fortunately he was going along headforemost this time, and Uncle Ed, who had just arrived, panting and breathless, from running, shouted to him to keep his head and steer for a narrow opening between two jutting boulders.  I don’t know whether Dutchy did any steering or not, but the raft shot straight through the opening, and was lost in a cloud of spray.  In a moment he reappeared below the rapids, paddling like mad for a neck of land on the Pennsylvania side of the river.

Dutchy would never own up that he was afraid.  He never told a lie under other circumstances, but when it came to a question of courage he had the habit of stretching facts to the very limit.  Even in this case, he said that he started out with the idea of shooting the rapids, and if we hadn’t flustered him so, he would not have bumped into the bank and turned about so many times.  Dutchy was a very glib talker.  He nearly persuaded us that it was all done intentionally, and his thrilling account of the wild dash between the rocks and through the shower of spray stirred us up so that we all had to try the trick too.

Shooting the Rapids.

The next day, while Uncle Ed was taking a nap, we stole off to the upper end of Lake Placid, each one towing a plank.  We needn’t have been so afraid of Uncle Ed, for we found out later that he intended to try a plank ride through the rapids himself next time he went in swimming.  Down Lake Placid we paddled in single column to the mill-race.  In a moment the current had caught us and we were off.  I shall never forget the thrilling ride down the swirling mill-race, the sudden pause as we shot out into the open river, the plunge between the boulders and the dive through the spray.  It was all over too soon.  Something like coasting—­whiz, whiz-z-z, and a half-mile walk.  Were it not for the trouble of hauling the planks back by the roundabout course along the Pennsy shore we would have thought shooting the rapids a capital game.

Restoring the Drowned.

[Illustration:  Fig. 87.  Pressing the Water out of the Stomach.]

[Illustration:  Fig. 88.  Expanding the Chest.]

[Illustration:  Fig. 89.  Squeezing out the Air from the Lungs.]

It was on the second day after Dutchy’s exploit of the rapids that Bill came so near drowning.  He probably would have drowned if Uncle Ed hadn’t been on hand to work over him.  Bill was a fine swimmer, but even the best of swimmers will sometimes get a cramp, so it is never safe for anyone to go into the water without some one at hand to help him out in case of accident.  In the present case Bill was doing some fancy strokes by himself over near the Pennsy shore, while the rest of us were watching Uncle Ed give Dutchy a lesson in swimming.  All of a sudden Bill threw up his hands and sank.  I happened to glance up as he did it.  We thought he was fooling at first, but soon made out that he was in genuine trouble.  Uncle Ed dropped Dutchy