There was no wood to build a fire and I laid for several hours in my dress.

At daybreak I resumed the voyage and it looked as though I was penetrating the very bowels of the mountains, whose crests loomed high in the sky.
I soon discovered the cause of the roar that had arrested my progress the night before.

It was an ugly rapid, madly fighting sharp, broken rocks and I was dashed in amongst them.

In trying to make a passage to escape a back water, something like that I had gone through on the Arno, at Florence, I turned so quickly that the little tender was thrown into the vortex on one side, tearing loose from my belt, while I was rapidly carried down the other.

I never saw her again and what was more, I was left without provisions of any kind.
"That afternoon the river increased in speed and, dashed along at a mad rate.