Jasper and the Riddle of Riley's Mine by Caroline Starr Rose

Author:Caroline Starr Rose
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2016-12-02T13:10:57+00:00

Chapter 8

I hear them river rapids thunder like a thousand horses before I see the canyon. The Yukon’s green waters hurry us toward walls of massive rocks alongside the riverbanks. Last night I tried to picture Miles Canyon, but my head couldn’t imagine these sheer cliffs and the sound of rapids pounding so loud, it thrums in my chest.

Before they reach the canyon, the boats ahead of us gather along the Yukon’s bank and men unload their outfits. They don’t only unload them, they carry their gear up and over a snowy path, like they did on the Chilkoot Trail. Folks travel back and forth, saddled with belongings or retracing their steps to fetch some more. Mounties wave their broad-brimmed hats to show the new folks where to go.

“Greenhorns.” Mr. Theroux shakes his head as though he feels sorry for them who walk the trail high above the currents carrying their gear. “Only men without experience on the Yukon choose to portage.”

“Portage?” Stanley asks.

“Carry a boat to get around rough waters,” Melvin says.

Mr. Theroux lifts his scraggly chin. “I’m real tired of them facts from your mining book. I could have explained just fine myself.”

Mel stays quiet, his brown eyes on them rock walls growing bigger up ahead.

Stanley’s voice wavers. “You mean we ain’t gonna carry our raft and walk around them rapids like those men over there?”

The wind and currents are so strong, we don’t need to row. The raft picks up speed, and we fly so fast, it feels like them enormous cliffs ahead have grabbed ahold and yanked us closer. Oh, my belly’s knotted up.

“I don’t want to stay on the river.” Stanley’s cheeks have lost their color.

“Well, you don’t got that choice now, do you? We ain’t going to portage; we’re going to ride,” Mr. Theroux says. “It will take them fellows at least a day to travel over Miles Canyon when it could easily take five minutes. A little bumpy on the rapids, sure, but not too bad.”

“Let me off,” Stanley pleads, and I’m right there with him. I don’t want to stay on this raft a minute more.

Mr. Theroux acts like he don’t hear a thing.

We’re stuck on this flimsy raft, forced to ride through dangerous waters just because Mr. Theroux wants to act like he’s sailed down the Yukon before.

The canyon walls grow steeper the nearer we get. How easily the racing Yukon could slam us into them! It ain’t just the roar of water I hear. I can see white waves churn and thrash.

I grab Mel’s wrist and don’t let go.

If we keep on, we’ll be bashed and broken, sucked under and destroyed.

A boat slips past us, then another, and at first I think they mean to brave the rapids. But both turn off to join the others on the shore.

“Mr. Theroux,” Mel begins. “I’m not so sure this is a good—”

The mister points straight at my brother. “You, Melvin Johnson, got no respect for my experience.”

My fingernails dig deep into Melvin’s flesh.

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