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Rh that while the small boat had slowed up and tacked to follow a curve in the shore line, the big boat rounded a point only a few yards above it, and was bearing down upon it with the speed of a toboggan on ice. Now at this critical moment, when a collision seemed certain, and the lives of four men were in jeopardy unless the course of the big boat could be changed, the pin which held Clyman's oar in place, gave way. Clyman, with that high courage and steady nerve that goes to make the hero, threw the beam of his oar in front of Uncle Charles' big immovable knee, and with a single stroke changed the course of the big boat enough to avoid the other. I have heard Uncle Charles say, "When Naylor and Strait saw our boat coming right at them, their faces were as white as if they were dead." I did not see those boats passing through the Devil's Gullet (Dalles). We had passed over the "Devil's Backbone" on Snake River, and now the boats were passing through his gullet.

We were following a footpath which ran along the north bank, but could not often see the river. We saw only one boat passing down the channel. Following the path, we children came out of the woods into a small glade, perhaps a hundred feet above the river, and about fifty yards from it. At this place we found a stick fire almost burned out. Throwing the brands together we soon had a cheerful blaze. From this point we saw probably a hundred yards of the river. A boat was gliding down the river with only one man in it and he seemed to be standing. While following the path down the river, we came to a thicket of wild rose bushes. They bore a large crop of seed pods or berries, which were ripe and red, and we ate of them freely. Poor as they were, they were fruit, and the girls carried a quart or two to camp. Aunt Melinda (Mrs. Charles Applegate) made a pudding of them for the children, using in the making what was left of some homemade starch.

Farther on, the path led across the island known as "Mimaluse," which connected with the main land on the north shore when the river is low. We passed a pond or small lake on which were floating many rafts made of logs on which were dozens of dead bodies rolled in blankets or Klisques mats. While I stood looking at the ghastly spectacle, my companions