Never Say Die by Will Hobbs Page A

the oar handles under his knees, Ryan leaned forward and unsnapped his big hard-shell camera case. Out came his black digital Nikon. He put it around his neck and started snapping pictures.
    Swimming from left to right, the big tundra grizzly was approaching the center of the river. “Maybe it’s the one that left the tracks,” Ryan panted as he pulled on the oars, aiming to draw close to the bear. He tucked the oars under his knees again and snapped rapid-fire as the grizzly turned its massive head—wide, with frosty tips on the brown fur—and looked right at him.
    The river was about to take another bend. The current swept us by the animal. Ryan snapped more pictures as the bear reached shallow water and rose from the river, water streaming from its sides.
    Hurriedly, Ryan put his camera away and cinched the straps tight that secured the camera case. As we rounded the bend, he began to spin the boat so he could see downstream.
    As the front of the boat swung around I saw what lay ahead of us a split second before my brother did. My heart was in my throat. Shore to shore, the river was blocked by ice. It was three feet high, and we were headed straight for it.
    Ryan pivoted the boat and rowed toward the right shore with all his strength. There wasn’t nearly enough time. “Nick!” I heard my brother cry as the raft was swept sideways against the white wall of ice. The heavily loaded raft flipped over and sent us flying headlong into the freezing river.

9
DISASTER
    T he shock of getting thrown into the river and under the ice took my breath away—what little I had in my lungs as we capsized. The cold felt like a lethal jolt of electricity. All was confusion and chaos. Flailing, I righted myself in the swift-running current and knocked my head against a ceiling of solid ice. Underwater I found no air, no gap between the river and the ice.
    From the corner of my eye I saw Ryan in the same deadly fix. The water was cold beyond belief. I panicked. This was it. There was no escape.
    I didn’t know how long I could hold out. Not much longer. After that one glimpse I had lost sight of my brother.
    As I got swept along, my head kept bumping the ice, and still I couldn’t find an air pocket. The end was coming quick. I was going to black out. It wasn’t like they say, with your whole life flashing before your eyes, people’s faces and all that, not even Jonah’s. Disbelief and fear, that’s all there was.
    Ahead and to the right, I saw something different from the ceiling of ice all lit by sunlight: a dark patch, almost black. What was that?
    Somehow I connected to Jonah, a memory of him telling me what to do. I had to swim toward that dark circle. Stroking and kicking hard as I could, I remembered why. The darkness meant open water.
    The river was running so fast, I would have only one chance. Against the force of the current, how was I going to pull myself onto the ice?
    Knife , I thought. Eyes locked on that nearing dark patch, I pulled the rescue knife from my life jacket as I kept stroking with my free arm. Kicking hard with both legs, I got there. Bursting through the dark water and into the open air, I stabbed the stubby knife into the ice all the way to the hilt.
    The knife held. I kicked hard and dragged myself out of the river and onto the ice.
    I lay there gasping and heaving for breath, frozen to the bone. I was shuddering and shaking so bad, I didn’t think I could stand up. Then I realized I shouldn’t even try. The ice might break underneath me. I crawled on my elbows toward the shore.
    At the shoreline I clawed my way onto the rocks. Ryan was nowhere to be seen. I stumbled along the grassy top of the riverbank. Fifty yards farther on, where the ice jam ended, the river rushed downstream, open and clear. I spied the raft way down there, bottom side up. A couple of seconds, and it passed out of view around the bend.
    Where was my brother? I scanned the