Part 6 (1/2)
”Try-and-make-the-rock. Try-and-make-the-rock.”
Frank's insistence had done this much. It had caused the boy to recollect the one hope of salvation that the desperate situation held out. As he was swept down the torrent Harry made no effort to swim. It would have been worse than useless and besides he needed to husband his strength for the final struggle he knew was upon him.
The next minute he felt a sickening swirling sensation and realized that he was in the whirlpool's death-grip at last.
Faster and faster the boy was hurried in ever decreasing circles.
Dizzy, half-choked with water, blinded and almost exhausted Harry, with the tenacity of a bull dog, still clung tenaciously to the one idea:
”Try-and-make-the-rock. Try-and-make-the-rock.”
Suddenly, he was flung against a hard substance. With outstretched fingers he clutched at the slimy surface as of what he realized was the end of his journey at last. The great stone was covered with slimy weed, however, and his grasping fingers refused to clutch at any friendly niche in its surface.
With a despairing cry the boy was being swept in to the terrible mouth of the pool when he felt himself seized and pulled up out of the grip of the torrent. He knew no more till he opened his eyes and found Frank by his side. Both boys were on the rock--sitting on it in two inches or more of water. Fortunately in that climate the water was not so chilly as to cause discomfort, but this was about the only crumb of satisfaction the situation held for them.
”Well done, old fellow,” said Frank as Harry opened his eyes. ”You had a narrow escape, though.”
Harry could only look at his brother gratefully. How deep was his debt of grat.i.tude to him both boys realized without their talking of it.
”How did you gain the rock, Frank?” asked Harry.
”When I saw you swept off the tree trunk I slipped off too,” replied Frank, ”and when I felt myself dragged into the pool I struck out for the rock. I confess, though, I didn't have much hope of reaching it till I was slammed into it with a blow that almost cracked my ribs and knocked all the wind out of me. I managed however to grab hold of a depression in the surface and maintain my grip on it. I had hardly dragged myself up when you were hurled against it. I thought I had lost you, for the water pulled like a draught-horse, but I managed to hold on to you and here we are.”
”And a worse position we could not possibly be in,” added Harry.
”Unless we were in there,” retorted Frank pointing, not without a shudder, to the whirling open mouth of the pool which had sucked down the wreck of their canoe.
”What is it do you suppose?” asked Harry wonderingly.
”The mouth of a subterranean river I guess,” replied Frank. ”I have read of such things.”
”But why didn't Desplaines warn us of our danger,” said Harry bitterly, ”if we ever get out of this I shall tell him my opinion of him pretty strongly. We might have been killed and we may yet.”
”He did warn us,” replied Frank calmly.
”He did?”
”Yes.”
”I should like to know when?”
”When we shoved off.”
”You mean when he shouted something we couldn't catch and pointed down the river?”
”That's it.”
”I thought he meant there was better fis.h.i.+ng down, here,” snapped Harry indignantly, ”what idiots we were.”
”Yes; not to notice how we were drifting,” rejoined Frank quietly, ”it's no use to blame Mr. Desplaines for this pickle. We have only ourselves to be angry with. I don't suppose he ever thought that two boys would not notice how they were drifting in a ten mile current.”