Again the barrel swerved to the left, and I knew instinctively that
should it pursue its course it would be dashed to atoms on the giant
rocks near the Canadian shore. But God was good. The barrel paused,
raised slowly on its head, then turned over on a rock and pursued its
course down to the Brink of the Precipice. I tore the cushion from my
head, placed it quickly under my knees, and dropped to the bottom of
the barrel.
As I reached the brink the barrel did what I predicted it would do,
paused for a moment and then