noon
He had developed great power and control and the sweep had become a live part of the boat just as the tail of a fish guides it naturally through the water with an instinctive wave , this way or that . Tom and I often took the sweep with several hours of exercise at a time , but when the rapids became very dangerous Jim was always at the helm . It was a pleasure to see his sinewy form as it bent to the guiding oar , with a wary glance ahead every now and then . By noon we ran out of the Dark Canyon and the river broadened out , the walls became lower and stood further back from the stream than at any point we had yet passed . It seemed to give us breathing space after being cramped so long in narrow walls . We also left the storm behind with its dark grey masses piled up on the cliffs of the canyon and the wind was stirring the vapor around and around between the narrow walls as though the storm was boiling there . The sun had come out with all the hot , intense brilliancy of the desert atmosphere .