While resting on our paddles Corney and Pierre had overtaken us, and now followed astern of Uncle Donald, so that our canoe was the last.  We had got nearly half-way up, the navigation becoming more difficult as we proceeded.  The rocks extended farther and farther across the channel, the water leaping and hissing and foaming as it rushed by them.  One of our Indians sat in the bows with a rope ready to jump out on the rocks and tow the canoe should the current prove too strong for us.  Red Squirrel stood aft with pole in hand guiding the canoe, while Hugh and I worked our poles on either side.  Corney and Pierre were at some little distance before us, while Uncle Donald, having a stronger crew, got well ahead.