oatmen scout rapids. They gaze at currents, pick out hazards, search out routes, ponder the probabilities, and are reminded of other rapids and runs which they must now discuss.

Arms are waved, fingers pointed; minds wander, eyes glaze; the scenery begins to move of its own accord. These things are timeless. They do not change. Men and women, old and new-the ritual goes on, whether there is a rapid or not.