Milford chronicle. [volume] (Milford, Del.) 1878-1974, 1892-06-03
Ia lpAN,s pgRILous EeAr

A, mdfan Shoots the Dangerous Lac
chine lapids in NIidwinter.
To shoot the Lachine Rapids in the
ST. I,awre1ice river in fatboat is no
trifing nj tter and live to tell about it
afserwar5, but to shoot these world IA
nous "a pas in the middle of winter,
with thk boiling. tenipestuous waters
filed with large cakes of ice and drift
wood, is Ashll more hazardous. Yet
big JohnS the Caughnawaga Indian.
has for the last fourteen years on every
New Years day made this perilous trip.
Peculiar as it may seem, Big John has
always taken some one with him on
these trips. This year he made the same
dangerous shoot, but it viii be his last.
On the morning of the firs Of the year
big John, who lives down tSs river from
Lachine, came up to the village to see if
any one had come up from Montreal to
accompany him. He found two young
men, utter strangers to him and to each
other. One, George Wait, was from
Montreal, while the other, Frederick
Goyer, came from ''back countrie."
he AlEll WdtAhNtA AAOMn " DIX uOAAA
house, distance of three miles. Here
they launched their boat, and the party
was increased by one more, Big Johns
son Murray. 1t took only half an hour
to work ont through the ice and heavy
water to reach the top of the rapids. As
the boat approached them Big dohn
stood up in the stern with his long pad
die in his hand ready for the shoot.
Rocks glistened on all sides with their
icy coats; huge waves dashed high,
leaped over the frail boat and threatened
to swamp her. Goyer was kept busy
bailing out with Wait, while Murray
obeyed the commands of his father.
Goyer describes the passage as follows:
From the time we struck the rapids
until we reached the lower end of them,
John seemed a being inspired. His eyes
were fairly ghstening and shooting fire.
1 thought they would leap from their
sockets with the tremendous excite
ment. His long, thin paddle would
sweep the air like flash and be buried
in the foaming water, swinging the boat
hither and thither, avoiding this jutting
rock and then that one. A continuous
stream Of commands in French flowed
from his lips to his son Murray, who
was nearly the equal of his father in
dexterity. Now and then he directed
me in broken English to do something.
He was a picture that no artist would
ever forget, and that would haunt him
until he had reproduced it ON canvas.
The trip was one of excitement and
hoars,,r,f,,sr 70 nv.1 tho hnnf
passing from one rapid to another in
succession. 1t filed continually with
water and kept Wait and Cover busy
bailing. When they reached the whirl-
pool, the last and most dangerous spot,
Big John gave his final command, and
it came near also being his last on earth.
He shouted to Murray, the boy, to pad
die hard, and as the lad shifted his posi-
ton to take a longer and stronger stroke
he lost his balance and fell over on lis
back in tine bottom of the boat. The
mighty Indian, quick as a wink, threw
himself down fiat in the boat, and thus
saved it from being capsized, the heavy
waves throwing twenty buckets of
water all over the party. Big John was
up again in a second, and with two or
three powerful strokes he spun the boat
around and sent her nose straight into
the waves again.
The whole incident did not occupy
more than six seconds, and then the
boat shot down into the home channel
in a few seconds more. Big John threw
his paddle into the bottom of the boat,
and, almost exhausted from the violent
exertion and excitement, sank down
into the stern sheets. All danger was
passed, but he fully realized what a
close shave the party had had as he
pointed back at the whirlpool and said,
"Je croyais qu'on allait au ciel tout
rond." Which was translated, Il thought
we were going to heaven, boat and all. B."
The boat was pulled out at Jacques Car
tiers landing by willing hands. Big
John gave Goyer his paddle as a re-
minder of the trip, and announced that
that was the last time he would evel
shoot the Lachine rapids in winter
Cor. Chicago Tribune.