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moustache dripped water straight into my mouth. I was so cold and miserable that I didn't even notice that the roar of the river had increased in volume. Suddenly I fell. The river bottom had been swept from under my feet, and I found myself being carried downriver by the current. Now I was well aware of the river's roar. It was the familiar sound of water breaking over rocks. God, I was being swept over a waterfall!

I tried to make it back to the shore, but the pack was too big and bulky, bogged me down, and I almost drowned. I stayed under and slipped the shoulder straps off, leaving the pack secured to me only by its belt. I lifted my head out of the water to see the waterfall looming ahead. I swam frantically and finally managed to grasp a rock near the shore. The rock was smooth and covered with slippery moss, and I was about to be carried away again. I could see the waterfall, practically under me, about twenty-five feet high, cascading into a small pool cut into the rocks below. I slithered precariously up the rock I was clinging to. The weight of the pack tied to my waist kept pulling me back into the river. I let go of the rock with one hand and tried to get hold of the strap of the pack. I leaned over and fell backward into the river. My chest was crushed against the rock; I thought I was suffocating. My legs were caught in the current, but I held fast to the rock for dear life, digging my fingernails deep into the moss. I managed to pull myself out once again to sit on