George stared. “Beyond repair? But that means . . .”
“That means we’ll have to load everybody into one raft,” Paula said matter-of-factly. “Either that, or we’ll have to leave some of you here while the others go downriver and send help back.” She paused and looked around. “That’s going to be a problem, too, because most of the gear that was in that raft—sleeping bags, tents, food—has all been washed away.”
“Ooh!” Linda wailed. “Ralph, I told you we shouldn’t have come!”
“What I want to know,” Sammy demanded sharply, “is how this happened. What about it, Max? How come we capsized?”
Max spread his hands out over the fire for warmth. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “There’s this V-shaped rock just upstream of the falls, hidden under the water. The raft can’t go over it, and somehow, we got hung up on it and the current shifted us broadside to the falls.” He shrugged. “You know the rest.”
“Yeah, we know,” Sammy said in a low voice, poking the fire viciously. “We’re lucky to be alive, that’s what we know.”
Nancy looked at Tod. For a minute she thought he was going to tell the others what he had told her. When he didn’t she breathed a little easier. It would only make things more difficult if the others knew about the first accident.
“Listen, I know you’re all upset,” Paula said. “But you’ll feel better in the morning, when you’re not so tired.” She glanced at the grove of willows behind them. “It’s going to get dark before long. I suggest we gather enough firewood to last the night, fix ourselves some supper, and bed down early. Tomorrow morning we can decide what to do.”
“I want to decide right now,” Sammy said sullenly.
Ralph spoke up. “I think the girls ought to be the ones to go out tomorrow on the raft. The guys can stay behind and wait.”
“I don’t think that’s fair,” Tod said. “I think we ought to draw straws to see who goes out.”
“But I thought Paula said we could all go in one raft,” Bess pointed out.
Ned turned to Paula. “Is that safe? I don’t think we would have made it over those falls if we had been loaded any heavier.”
Paula looked grim. “I wouldn’t really recommend everybody going in one raft,” she admitted. “Of course, if we had to, I suppose we could.”
“There’s another big rapids about three miles downstream,” Max said, looking very tired. “I think we’d be asking for trouble if we all tried to go in one raft.”
“How about a vote?” Nancy suggested.
When they raised their hands, it was six to four in favor of splitting the group.
“So, that leaves us with the decision of who to keep and who to throw away,” Mike joked.
“We can draw straws—or twigs,” Sammy said.
It was decided that George, Nancy, Sammy, Mike, and Ralph, would be going downstream in the morning with Max. The others would wait.
“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,” Nancy said, “but I’m hungry.”
“Food’s got my vote,” Bess said.
“Firewood first, then food,” Paula said. “And we’d better check what kind of sleeping gear we have.”
An hour later, a huge pile of driftwood was stacked on the beach, a pot of Mercedes’s thick stew with dumplings was simmering on the fire, and a stack of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches sat on a plate nearby. A pot of hot chocolate was perched next to the fire on a flat rock. The gear had been pulled out and inspected: there were four sleeping bags and six blankets. Nancy’s and Ned’s packs were wet, but otherwise unharmed; George’s and Bess’s had been swept away in the capsize.
“Well, at least we’ll sleep with a full stomach,” George said, leaning back against a rock, her feet to the fire. “That stew was great, Mercedes.”
“Yes, it was good,” Nancy added.
“Thanks,” Mercedes said, sounding preoccupied. She was sitting on the other side of the fire with a surly Sammy. “I’m glad it wasn’t Paula’s raft that went over,” she went on. “At least tonight’s supper didn’t get dumped.”
“What is our food situation?” Mike asked.