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white water and a scattering of jagged rock half-submerged in the middle of the river. The current was very strong, and there was no way that we could stop.

‘Left! Quick, to the left! Row as hard as you can!’ Karl shouted. ‘Everyone together, hard!’
‘Right!’ Kevin shouted. ‘If we go to the left, we’ll end up on the rocks.’
‘Shut up, Kevin,’ Karl almost went to pieces. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t a kayak, and you’re not in Oregon. Do what I tell you.’

I had no idea which way to row. I stood there holding the pole. Marcus turned to me.
‘Row, row fast!’ he screamed. ‘Watch me and do like me. Deep, like this. Put the oar in the water just like this.’ He was hysterical. His voice was shrill.

The rocks loomed nearer, and there was no way that we could avoid them. Our frantic rowing did no good at all. The raft was taking a terrible pumgelling. It tilted on its side and then flopped down, rising up and down, up and down. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the ropes holding the raft together. I could hear Karl’s frightened cries but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Kevin made some reply, but I couldn’t understand him either. A minute or two later everything was calm again, the river had become smooth as glass, and we heaved a collective sigh of relief. The raft hadn’t suffered any serious