DOWN THE GLACIER.
Sandy's wild shout of alarm caused the gentlemen on the deck of the
_Yukon Rover_ to start up in affright.
They looked above them and what they saw was sufficiently alarming.
Two boys, rolling and tumbling down the smooth rock slope, bound
straight for the river! So swiftly did it all happen that they had
hardly time to realize the catastrophe that had overtaken the boys,
before the two victims of this double disaster struck the water with a
splash and vanished from view.
"Quick, Chillingworth! The life preservers!" cried Mr. Dacre running
to where they were kept. He flung all he could lay his hands on far
out toward the spot where the glacier dipped into the water. In
another instant, to the unspeakable relief of both men, they saw two
heads come to the surface.
But on Sandy's head was a broad cut, and though he struck out toward
the nearest life preserver, his efforts were feeble. It was evident
that he had been injured in his fall, but how badly, of course, they
could not tell. Tom was striking out with strong, swift movements. He
had seized one of the life preservers, when he perceived Sandy's
plight. Instantly dropping the ring, he struck out for the Scotch lad.
Just as he reached his chum's side, the rushing current caught both
boys in its grip and hurtled them out toward the middle of the stream.
So swiftly did it run that, despite Tom's strong strokes, he could not
gain an inch on the body of his chum, which was being borne like
something inanimate down the stream.
The gentlemen on the deck of the _Yukon Rover_ watched this scene with
fascinated horror. Powerless to aid, all they could do was to watch
the outcome of this drama.
In the meantime, Jack, pale with fright, was coming down the steep
cliffside in leaps and bounds. He had not seen his brother and his
comrade rise and did not know but that they had not reappeared at all.
Tom felt the current grip him like a giant's embrace. He had been
partially stunned by the swiftness of his flight down the steep,
precipitous glacier, but the plunge into the cold waters of the river
had revived him. When he had risen to the surface after his plunge, he
was in full possession of all his faculties. To his delight he was not
injured, and almost the first thing he saw near him was Sandy's head.
As we know, he struck out for it, only to have his chum snatched
almost out of his very arms by the mighty sweep of the current.
Like those on the steamboat, he had seen the cut over Sandy's eye and
knew that he was injured. This made Tom all the more feverishly
anxious to catch up with him, for although Sandy was a strong and good
swimmer and had plenty of presence of mind in the water, if he was
seriously hurt it was not probable he could stay long above the
surface.
But Tom speedily found that, try as he would, he could make no gain on
his chum. He heard Sandy cry out despairingly as the current swept him
round a bend. The next instant Tom realized that not far below them
lay some cruel rapids which the _Yukon Rover_ had bucked that
afternoon with the greatest difficulty. He knew that if something
didn't happen before they got into the grip of that boiling, seething
mass of water, their doom was sealed.
He almost fancied as he drifted along, allowing the current to carry
him and saving his strength for the struggle he knew must come, that
he could already hear the roaring voice of the rapids and see the
white water whipping among the jagged black rocks, contact with which
would mean death.
It was at this instant that he spied something that gave him a gleam
of hope. Right ahead of them there loomed up a possible chance that he
had forgotten. It was one of those willowy islets that have been
mentioned as dotting the Yukon for almost its entire length. If he
could but gain that, if some lucky sweep of the current would but
carry Sandy in among the trees, both their lives might be saved.
And now the river played one of those freaks that rapidly running
streams containing a great volume of water frequently do. Sandy's body
was swept off into a sort of side eddy, while Tom felt himself seized
by an irresistible force and rushed forward in the grip of the tide as
it roared down to the rapids.
Horror at his utter incapacity to stem it or to do aught but yield to
the rush of the stream, rendered him almost senseless for an instant.
In his imagination his body was already being battered in the rapids
and flung hither and thither in the boiling whirlpools.
But suddenly an abrupt collision that almost knocked the breath out of
his body gave him something else to think of. Twigs brushed and
scratched his face and he was held fast by branches. With a swift
throb of thankfulness he realized the next instant that the impossible
had happened.
A vagary of the current had swung him into the midst of the willow
island and he was anchored safely in the branches of one of the trees.
But he gave himself little time to think over this. His thoughts were
of Sandy. Where was the Scotch boy?
Had he been swept on down the river to the rapids or had he sunk?
Hardly had these questions time to flash through his mind, when he
gave a gasp and felt his heart leap.
Coming toward him, and not more than a few feet away, was a dark
object that he knew to be Sandy's head. The next instant he saw the
boy's appealing eyes.
Sandy had seen him, too, as the same current that had caught Tom in
its embrace hurtled his chum down the river.
"Tom!" he cried. "Tom!"
Tom made no reply.
It was no time for words. He quickly judged with his eye the spot
where Sandy must be borne by him, and clambered out upon a branch
overhanging the water. His object was to save his chum, but it must be
confessed that his chances of doing so looked precarious.
The limb upon which he had climbed was, in the first place, not a
branch in which much confidence could be consistently placed. It was
to all appearances rotten, although it bore his weight. But it was no
time to weigh chances. The stream was bearing Sandy down upon the
willow island, and Tom realized that, unless the boy was carried into
the midst of the clump as he had been, he would hardly have strength
enough left to grab a projecting branch and thus save himself from the
grip of the river.
He had hardly made up his mind to the plan he would pursue when Sandy
was right upon him. But he was further out than Tom had calculated.
However, Tom had anticipated this possibility and throwing himself
flat on the limb, he twisted his legs around it and reached out, with
an inward prayer that he might be successful in the struggle that was
to ensue between himself and the mighty Yukon.
As Sandy shot by, Tom's arms enveloped him. The pull of the current
was stronger than he thought, but he held on for dear life, his face
almost touching the rushing waters. He was drawing Sandy in toward him
and in another instant both would have been safe, when there was an
ominous "crack!"
[Illustration: Throwing himself flat on the limb ... he reached out.
(_Page 200_)]
The branch had parted under the double strain!
In a moment both boys were caught in the clutch of the current of the
swiftly flowing "Golden River."