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The Hunters of the Ozark, a novel by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 10. A Struggle For Life |
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_ CHAPTER X. A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE The partly sunken log crashed into the side of the canoe with such suddenness that the craft was overturned and ruined, and the occupants struggling in the water, before either had time to utter more than a single exclamation. But they were powerful swimmers, and, but for the nearness of the rapids, they could have afforded to laugh at their mishap. As it was, Terry Clark shouted, as he blew the muddy water from his mouth: "What a sinsible young gintleman I was to lave me gun on the other side." "We both would have been much more sensible had we left ourselves there," rejoined Fred, who was struggling with might and main for the land in front; "there's no time, Terry, to waste in talk; we've got to swim as never before, for nothing else will save us." The other seemed to rouse to his peril, for he made the only wise response he could--which was putting forth every atom of strength and skill that he possessed in the effort to breast the furious torrent. It is singular how often the slightest advantage turns the scale for life or death. At the moment the canoe was smashed and capsized Terry Clark was seated some six or eight feet nearer the shore toward which they were paddling than was Fred Linden, and this difference remained when the two went into the water and began swimming. The Irish lad was fully as skillful as the other, and he did not lose an inch of the gain thus given him. They were near the middle of the stream when the catastrophe took place. Of course they would have done better had they been without any clothing, but there was no time to remove any of that, and beyond question the two made the most gallant kind of a fight for life. Fully aroused to his peril, Terry swam with amazing power, his lips compressed and his eyes fixed on the land in front, which seemed quite near, and yet was never so hard to reach. The lad had proven by repeated tests that he could swim faster on his left side then in any other position. He quickly flung himself over and used his arms and legs like one who knew fully the stake for which he was contending. By this recourse he actually gained on Fred, who continued to breast the water with all the strength at his command. Terry was hopeful, and now that he was fully roused, he did not waste his strength in shouting to his companion. As he advanced in his crab-like fashion, he frequently flirted his face around so as to look in front, and thus to keep aware of his progress. "I'm doing well, and will make it," was his thought; "I hope Fred will be as fortynate as mesilf." An important point was gained by swimming on his left side; his face was turned up stream, and he caught sight of the floating timber quicker than when advancing with his face toward the land. Thus it came about that he saw a plunging tree, or log, similar to that which had destroyed the canoe, and when it was fully as close to him. Like a flash, Terry dove, intending to pass clean under it. He could not know any thing about the portion beneath the surface, and was a little startled when he found himself among leaves and a lot of small branches; but he swam with the same vigor and skill when below as when above the surface, and quickly fought his way through, rising on the other side a considerable distance nearer land. But he gasped with terror, for during the brief period he lost a great deal more than he gained. A furtive glance to the left showed him the mist and spray flying high in air, as the muddy waters were tossed to and fro by the rocks below: he was fearfully close to them. But he was also close to land, and he saw his chance; indeed, his only one. A tree growing out toward the creek curved downward so that the lower part of the trunk was within a few inches of the water. A short time before the current had washed against it, but was now falling away from it. The portion which inclined downward like a bow was several feet from shore, and some distance below him. It will be seen, therefore, that the thing for him to do was to bend all his efforts toward reaching that. If he could advance far enough to allow the current to sweep him beneath, or quite close to the tree, he could grasp it and save himself. "That's what's got to be done," was his conclusion the instant he saw the crooked tree; "or it's good-by to Terry Clark and his rifle." He would succeed; he saw it the next moment. The curving tree seemed to be sweeping up stream with frightful swiftness, but at the right second Terry, by a supreme effort, threw himself partly out of the water, and flinging both arms around the trunk, which was no more than six inches in diameter, he held fast. The strain was great, and he felt his fingers slipping over the shaggy bark, but he held on like grim death, and by a skillful upward hitch of his body, locked his fingers above the trunk, and was safe; he was then able to hold double his own weight. His next move was to throw his feet around the trunk, when it was an easy matter for him to twist himself over on top, where he was as secure as lying on his own trundle bed in the cabin at home. The instant his own safety was secured his whole soul was stirred by anxiety for Fred Linden, who, he knew, was placed at more disadvantage than he. Since he was further from shore than was he, and since the latter had been able to save himself only by a hair's breadth, it was clearly beyond the power of Fred to escape in the same manner--though it might be that there was some other remote chance for him. The first glance that Terry cast over the muddy waters showed him his friend, swimming manfully for shore, but so far out in the stream that it was impossible for him to reach it before passing into the grip of the rapids. "It's no use," called out Fred, in a voice in which there was no tremor or shrinking; "I'm bound for the rapids, and here goes." And deliberately facing about, he swam coolly in the direction of the boiling waters as though he were bathing in a still lake. "Be the powers, but he is plucky," muttered Terence, thrilled by the sight; "if he can get through there alive, I'll be proud of him!" The rapids, of which I have made mention several times, were caused by a series of irregular rocks, extending a hundred yards, in the space of which the stream made a descent of a dozen or twenty feet. At ordinary times the creek wound languidly around these obstructions, forming many deep, clear pools of water, that afforded the best kind of fishing. There was so much room for the current that there was no call for it to make haste. But you can understand how different it was when the creek was swollen by violent rains. It then dashed against the rocks, was thrown back, plunged against others, whirled about and charged upon still others, by which time it was a mass of seething foam, with the spray flying high in air, and a faint rainbow showing through the mist when the sun was shining. After fighting its way between and around and over these obstructions, the current emerged at the bottom one mass of boiling foam and dancing bubbles, which continued for several hundred feet before the effects of the savage churning that the water had received could be shaken off. Now, it would be idle to say that these rapids were as dangerous as the famous whirlpool below Niagara Falls; for it would not only be untrue, but it would shut me out from taking Fred Linden safely through them: for I am bound to do that, since he is too good a fellow to sacrifice at this early stage of my story, and you would not forgive me for doing so. But all the same the danger was great, and was enough to cause the bravest man to shrink from attempting the passage. Fred would have been glad to shrink from going through, but since that was beyond his power he did the wisest course--faced about and kept his wits with him. There was one consolation--the suspense could last but a few moments; he was sure to emerge from the lower falls within the space of a minute, whether alive or dead. The first object that caught his eye was his broken canoe. Naturally it was but a short distance below him, though it had gained a little while he was struggling so hard to make land. It was turned on its side, spinning sometimes one way and then whirling the other, according to the whim of the current; then sea-sawing up and down, until all at once it shot upward like a huge sturgeon, which sometimes flings its whole length out of the water. Another point must be named that was gained by this facing about of Fred Linden. Since he was going with the current he kept pace with every thing else that was afloat, and he was therefore in no danger from the trees and branches that had caused him so much, and, in fact, nearly all his trouble. At the moment he was about to enter the boiling rapids he found himself partly entangled in the branches of a large uprooted tree that was dancing about in a crazy fashion. "This may help to shield me from being dashed against the rocks," was his thought, as he seized hold of a thick limb close to the point where it put out from the trunk; "at any rate I don't see that it can make matters any worse." The act of Fred Linden in grasping the limb saved his life. The next moment he was whirled hither and thither, half strangled with foam, head now in air, now beneath the surface, his body grazing the jagged rocks by the closest possible shave, and all the time shooting forward with dizzying rapidity, until at last he emerged into the calmer water below as well and hearty as he ever was in all his life. _ |
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