Old Sol tried his hardest to stop us to-day for he poured down upon us all his violet rays with relentless fury. On we went. Once we encountered some wind and waves in a fairly wide stretch of river and still we went on. Most of the boys were clad only in shorts and as they presented their coppery bronze backs to the sun, the tensing and relaxing of their muscles made an inspiring sight - strong, healthy youth on its way to manhood. May God grant that our souls may be as healthy as our bodies.

Young men with no shirts in canoes inside a lock

Very early in the morning a ter­rific thunder storm came up. The elements were given free reign and let loose with all their pent up fury. The rain came down in a sudden cloudburst without giving the canvas of the tent a chance to soak up, with the consequence that instead of shedding the rain our canvas walls let the rain come through. Our bed­ding became soaked and we were at a loss to know what to do.

As we sat huddled together in the tent, furious deafening crashes burst on our ears. The tent ropes strained at their pegs as the gusty gale threatened to blow everything down before it. The ground shuddered beneath us and it seemed as if all the demons of Hades were having a fracas. Candidly, we were scared.

"This storm ought to beat down the mosquitoes.” someone ventured to remark, for indeed, they had all disappear­ed while the storm raged without. Our respite was short lived, however, for as soon as the storm ceased, back they came with renewed vigour and more fiendish appetites.

Crash of the thunder; roar of the tempest;
Screeching of wind through trees waving high;
Rumble of breakers; flash of the lightning;
Bow your heads, for God passeth by.