A CLOSE SHAVE.
As Malvin had said, the river was lower by a foot or more than it had
been earlier in the summer. The Gallops were worse than Ralph had
hitherto seen them. In going up the river to the town that afternoon
their course had lain on the Canadian side, for it was impossible for
any craft to ascend the rapids, no matter how powerfully engined.
Therefore, Ralph had had no previous notion of the wildness of the
waters which were now hurtling the _River Swallow_ forward like a stone
out of a sling. Had he known what effect the drop in the river would
have had upon the swirling waters, it is likely that he would have taken
to the Canadian side on the return trip. But the voyage through the
rapids, as has been said, always exhilarated him; and, besides, it was
growing late, and the passage through the Gallops shortened the trip to
Dexter Island materially.
He was thinking these things over, giving all the while an alert mind to
the handling of the boat, when his attention was drawn to Malvin in the
manner described. The man was apparently making no effort to use the
search-light to find out the jagged outlines of the rock known as Big
Nigger. Instead, he appeared to be making aimless sweeps on the water
with the light, and not trying in the slightest to locate the chief
menace of the Gallops.
“Malvin!” called Ralph sharply.
“Sir!” the man’s voice was steady and respectful.
“I told you to locate Big Nigger.”
“I’m trying to, sir.”
“Nonsense. You know as well as I do that the rock should lie off on the
other side. We pass it to starboard. Why don’t you cast the light in
that direction?”
“I will, sir. I quite forgot that for a minute, sir,” was the response,
in the same respectful tones.
“Odd that you should forget it,” spoke Ralph, “when you have run these
rapids scores of times! I don’t understand——”
“Wow!”
The cry came from Hardware.
“Holy mackerel! Ralph!”
“Great Scott!”
Ralph spun the wheel over with every ounce of power at his command. The
rapids strained and tore at the rudder frantically. It was as if they
wished to aid and abet in the destruction of the _River Swallow_. For
dead ahead of the craft had loomed suddenly a sinister, menacing object
that had caused the wave of panic to sweep over the boys on the bridge
of the motor boat.
Big Nigger Rock!
Revealed by the rays of the search-light as suddenly as if it had been
thrust upward by an unseen hand from the bottom of the rapids, the black
boulder that bore the name dreaded by rivermen had appeared.
“We’re goners!” The cry came from Malvin.
He threw off his coat, and Ralph noted with astonishment, even as
excited as he was, that the man had on under that garment a life
preserver!
But the boy had not a moment to ponder on this strange fact, although it
looked almost as if Malvin knew, by some marvelous instinct, that
something was going to happen and had prepared for it. All the boy’s
energies just then were centered in one task: to keep the _River
Swallow_ from being shattered into kindling wood against the gleaming,
spray-wet sides of the Big Nigger.
“Shut down on your port engine; come full speed ahead on your
starboard!”
Ralph had seized the flexible speaking-tube and roared the command down
it.
“Jump now!” he added, as Persimmons’ “Aye! aye!” came back to him.
It was the only chance of saving the _River Swallow_ from annihilation.
By stopping one propeller and coming ahead on the other, Ralph hoped to
be able to aid the rudder enough to swing the _River Swallow’s_ bow
outward from the rock.
Malvin paused by the rail. He had apparently been in the act of casting
himself into the waters that boiled and seethed alongside. But Ralph had
no time to notice the man now. All that he had eyes to see was the
towering black buttress of rock ahead of them, against which it appeared
that nothing short of a miracle could save the _River Swallow_ from
being splintered.
Young Ware, white-faced and tense, stood by Ralph’s side. Like Ralph, he
sensed the full measure of the danger confronting them. Yet it spoke
volumes for his pluck that he did not utter a sound after that first
startled exclamation had escaped him, when the Big Nigger swung into the
search-light’s vivid circle of white light. As for Persimmons in the
engine room, he knew that some emergency must be confronting them. Yet
he did not dream of deserting his post. Then the young skipper’s voice
came down the tube once more.
“Get on a life preserver and come on deck. Quick! It may be life or
death!”
The _River Swallow_ headed straight for the Big Nigger. Ralph, every
nerve and muscle in his active body strained to the breaking point,
exerted every effort at his command to stave off the apparently
inevitable crash. He knew that he had done all he could to avert the
disaster that threatened to be swift and annihilating. All that was left
to do now was to await the issue. Suddenly a sharp exclamation escaped
Persimmons’ lips, and an instant later it was echoed by the others whom
the young engineer had joined on the bridge.
“She’s swinging out!”
It was true. Out of the grasp of the rapids a boy’s skill had snatched
victory against what had appeared to be overwhelming odds.
The Gallops roared and screamed and threatened in a thousand voices.
They danced and leaped like white teeth defrauded of their expected
prey. For that time at least they were to be cheated of a harvest of
disaster to which, in the years gone by, they had become accustomed as a
regular toll on the part of those who braved their fangs.
The _River Swallow’s_ bow, forced outward by the engines and the rudder,
swerved slowly to port. The next instant, at racing speed, she shot by
the Big Nigger, hurtled along like a helpless chip on the surface of the
mad waters.
So closely did they shave disaster that, from the bridge, it would have
been possible with extended fingers to touch the rough surface of the
Big Nigger as they were swept by. The next moment the peril that had
chilled the blood in their veins was behind them.
“And now for an explanation from Malvin,” spoke Ralph grimly. “I rather
think that there is one coming.”