THE LABYRINTH
Late in the afternoon of the next day the two boys dropped off the
train at a little station in the desert. There was no hotel among the
houses scattered along the track but they were lucky enough to find a
room over the general store in which to sleep.
As they had so little time in which to accomplish their plan every
minute was valuable, so, as soon as they had provided for the night,
they started out to find some sort of a boat to carry them on their
adventure.
The proprietor of the store, who was also their host, directed them to
a man he thought might have one. The latter, a rancher in a small way,
was rather dubious as to the boat’s being in a condition to navigate.
“It’s down by the river,” he said. “Been down there pretty nigh a year,
too, ef somebody hain’t swiped it. Take ye down to look at it in the
mornin’. Ef you’re aimin’ to commit suicide tryin’ to get through the
Labyrinth, it ought to be jest the thing for you. ’Twas built by a
party what aimed to try the stunt but got cold feet before they tackled
it. They give it to me, so ef you’re willin’ to pay about ten dollars,
you’re welcome to it.”
This sounded good to the boys and they went back to the store feeling
in luck. They had brought with them the air mattress which Jerry had
advised buying at the Canyon, as it would give them a dry bed no matter
where they might be forced to camp. They added to this before going to
bed by buying provisions from the storekeeper, endeavoring to get as
much food in as little bulk as possible. At last their preparations for
the trip were complete, and they went to bed anxious for the morning,
and hoping that the boat would prove what they wanted.
In order not to lose any time they packed the dunnage they expected to
take into two loads and carried it with them when they went down the
next morning to inspect the boat. It was a long way from the little
town to the river and their spirits sagged as the loads grew heavier.
However, they found the boat covered over by brushwood and some old
sail-cloth, and when its owner pulled it out into the open they were
much encouraged. The boat was about sixteen feet long, high at both
ends with water-tight compartments.
“If it only doesn’t leak,” said Jerry, “it will be all right.”
They pulled it into the water and watched with bated breath. It leaked
badly and Jerry was disgusted. Bob, however, knowing more about boats
than his companion, realized that the long time the boat had been out
of water had caused the strips to contract and in all probability a few
hours’ soaking would make them tight. Bob had insisted on putting the
boat into the water before paying for it and as the water came in more
slowly after a few minutes, he was satisfied. They paid the man and he
went off after wishing them a rather pessimistic farewell.
“I reckon I’ve seen as many as twenty danged fools try this stunt and
I’ve never heard of any of them comin’ out the other end--that is,
comin’ out breathin’. It’s a pity when the two of you air so young.
I’ll be right glad to hear from you ef you do get through, seein’ as
how it was my boat. Danged ef I figger I’ll hear, howsomever. Good-bye
to you.”
With this he started back up the trail, shaking his head. Jerry
suggested they make camp and wait until the boat was water-tight. This
seemed a good suggestion, so they built a fire and made some coffee. In
the afternoon Bob baled out the water that was in the boat and after
watching carefully for half an hour found that no more water had come
in.
“She’s all right,” he called to Jerry, who was building a lean-to for
the night.
“All right,” answered the other, “pull her up on the bank and we’ll
stow away everything that we don’t need for the night. We can leave
just as soon as it is light to-morrow. We wouldn’t get far enough along
to pay us for starting now.”
The boat easily carried all the things they had brought. Jerry took
particular care in stowing away a box which he had hung onto jealously
since they started. It was rather a mysterious looking case about
which he had volunteered no information. Up to this time Bob had not
questioned him, although he had wondered what was in it. However,
as Jerry reserved the safest and dryest part of the boat for it Bob
ventured to ask what it was.
“Light transit,” said Jerry. “We will need it to make sure that a road
into the canyon is possible. What might seem quite possible to the eye,
is often no use at all. I thought we’d better make sure.”
Bob was interested. He had read of and knew in a general way what use
engineers made of transits and levels but up to this time he had not
had an opportunity to see them in actual service.
“If we’ve got to use it, Jerry,” he suggested, “don’t you think you had
better tell me something about it now while we’ve got a chance? Then
I’ll be of more use when we get down to the canyon.”
“All right,” said Jerry rather ungraciously. “But you’ll soon catch on
to it when we start work. You’ll have to.”
At the same time he took the case out of the boat and opened it. It
was a beautiful little instrument, weighing hardly twenty-five pounds.
It stood on telescopic legs of steel. Jerry showed Bob how to set it
up and to manipulate the four screws by which it was made level. Then
he showed him how to focus the telescope and all the other elementary
things. After a little practice Bob felt competent to give Jerry what
help he would need.
“Gee whiz, it’s interesting,” said Bob at last, when Jerry put the
fascinating instrument away.
“After you’ve carried one for about five years you won’t think it so
interesting,” returned Jerry, suddenly remembering that he was a grouch.
The night came down cold. The boys were glad to bundle up into their
sleeping bags and get what rest they could. The novelty and excitement
could keep Bob awake for only a little while, for the danger into which
he was headed did not worry him for a moment, and he was very tired. He
wanted adventure and he was going to have it. Only one thing deterred
him at all, and that was the thought of his father. But before he had
left the hotel at the Grand Canyon he had written a letter explaining
to the older Hazard what he was planning to do. He had, of course,
minimized the danger. But, even so, when Mr. Hazard got the letter he
was very much upset and had an impulse to get on the next train and
bring his boy back to civilization, if he still had a boy to bring back.
Jerry was first awake in the morning. He roused Bob but not until he
had a fire going and the coffee-pot singing merrily. Bob got up and,
slipping off his clothes, dived into the river. The water was cold but
not unpleasantly so. Jerry looked at him for a minute and laughed as he
came out dripping.
“You won’t need to _take_ a bath after this. If you don’t have about
five unexpected ones during the day I miss my guess.”
Bob laughed. “Well, water won’t hurt us. You’re sort of a grouch,
aren’t you, Jerry?” he said pleasantly. It was a tactless thing to say,
for the other boy shut up like a clam and except as it was absolutely
necessary he gave no openings for further conversation.
“Jolly sort of trip I’m going to have,” thought Bob, “if Jerry is
going to keep up this sort of thing. I ought never to have said he was
a grouch, though.”
After breakfast they rolled up their mattress and stowed away in the
boat the things they had used during the night. At last they were ready
to start.
“We might as well be going,” said Jerry. “Hop in.” He was already at
the oars, which he had tied securely to the oarlocks. The wisdom of
this precaution was later to be proved to them. Once Bob was in, Jerry
pulled off. He was a fair oarsman and going with the current the boat
made good time. At this point the river was broad and, except for
the towering hills which rose in the distance, it might have been a
peaceful tributary stream of any civilized river. Its calm surface gave
no warning of what was to come in the way of rapids and whirlpools.
After a bit Bob took the oars and as he had had more experience with
boats he made even better time than Jerry had. Turn by turn they went
through the morning.
It was not long before the rolling hills on either side of the stream
gave way to rocky cliffs and deep gulches through which little creeks
trickled into the river. The current grew faster and here and there
an ugly rock showed its head above the surface, the water rushing by
angrily on either side.
“Getting a little interesting,” ventured Bob.
“This isn’t anything,” growled Jerry, and then they went on again in
silence.
About noon they pulled in to a rocky ledge and had some lunch, and
after a short rest went on again. Towards the middle of the afternoon,
as they were turning a bend in the river, Bob, sitting in the stern,
saw what seemed to him to be a mountain cut in half.
“That must be it,” he said. “Look, Jerry!”
Jerry turned. “You’re right, I guess. It’s the Labyrinth.”
“We ought to get there by night. It’s only around the next bend,” Bob
ventured.
Jerry looked around again and laughed shortly. “We’ll be lucky if we’re
there by to-morrow night. That cliff is twenty miles away at least.”
Bob was amazed. It looked to be only about a mile away. Jerry must be
mistaken. But Jerry was right. Although they had covered a great deal
of distance, when it came time to camp for the night the cleft in the
mountain seemed as far away as when Bob had first sighted it. Two days
later, however, they did reach it. And it was not until the river had
swirled them through this giant gateway that they encountered any rapid
water. They began to think that the passage of the Labyrinth had been
overestimated.
In the late afternoon of the second day, after they had slipped
silently by the towering walls of the canyon which here came down
sharply into the river, and had swung around a bend, Jerry sighted the
first rough going.
“Pull in to shore, Bob,” he said quickly. “We’d better take a look at
what’s coming before we tackle it.”
Once ashore they made their way as near to the rapids as possible. The
water boiled in fury as it rushed by the rocks that opposed its way.
“Gee whiz!” ejaculated Bob. “This is worse than anything I’ve tackled
before--ever!”
Jerry laughed and said, “There’ll be a lot worse than this before
we’re through, I’m afraid. This isn’t much. We’ll be able to shoot it
all right.”
Back in the boat Jerry took the oars, and, helped by the current,
drifted swiftly towards the first rapids of the shallow and dangerous
passage. Once into the white water they found the going easier than
they had expected. After a struggle and a narrow escape or two from
shipwreck on jagged rocks they saw smoother water ahead. But this
held a new danger. Here the river made a short bend, and the current,
throwing itself against the opposite bank, threatened to dash them
against it before they could control their boat.
It was a ticklish moment. They shot out of the white spray and were
headed for the rocky wall. “Quick, Jerry!” yelled Bob. “Pull her
’round.”
Jerry used both his arms on the right hand oar and a moment later,
breathless and a little exhausted, they came to quieter water.
“Like shooting the chutes, isn’t it?” said Bob, putting his feeling
into words as soon as he could speak. “Great sport!”
Jerry, however, bent to his oars, betraying his emotion only by the
gleam of his eyes. No more rapids of any consequence hindered their way
the remainder of the afternoon. It was not until well along the next
morning that they came again to anything which really could be called
dangerous.
The first intimation the boys had of the approaching rapids was the
increasing speed of the boat. As they looked ahead the water seemed
clear and unbroken, but some current stronger than usual was hurrying
them along.
“We’re in for it again,” yelled Jerry to Bob, who was rowing. “Back
water--hard!”
Bob dug in the blades of his oars with all the force he could muster.
The boat lost a little headway but the effort came too late. The
current had them in its grasp. A quick rush in the blinding spray and
the boys found themselves in the icy water. Bob, however, had kept hold
of one of the oars of the overturned boat and he thanked his stars that
Jerry had had the foresight to tie it to the oarlock.
As soon as he shook the water out of his eyes a glance showed him what
had happened. Some freak of nature had left a ledge in the bottom of
the river over which the water flowed, making a waterfall of perhaps
six or eight feet. So even was the edge of the fall that it had not
been visible to them as they came down stream through the first rough
water.
“All right?” called Bob to Jerry, who had been carried past him by the
foam-flecked water.
“Sure,” the other sputtered. “Just keep drifting and we’ll land on that
point down there. I’ll stand by to help beach the boat when you get
there.”
The boys pulled the boat up on the rocky ledge that Jerry had called
a point, where they discovered to their great relief that no great
damage had been done. The water-tight compartments had held and their
provisions and clothing were quite dry. A few minutes later they were
off again, but paddling a little more cautiously this time, for they
had experienced the first trick the Labyrinth could play. They would be
better prepared for the next.
A stretch of good going gave them time for a little reflection. Bob
busied himself with thoughts of a possible dam site. It seemed queer
to him that Jerry had appeared to take no interest in the canyon for
this purpose.
“Why haven’t we looked for a place for the dam?” Bob ventured at last.
“We’ve passed a lot of places where the canyon walls were narrow.”
“No hurry,” answered Jerry. “It’d be too far to tunnel a canal through
the mountain right here. The valley we want to irrigate is miles
farther down. There’s no use bothering our heads about it until we get
nearer.”
Satisfied, Bob let the matter rest. So far the journey, with the
exception of the one upset, had proved rather tame going and both boys
were a little surprised that former explorers had found it impossible
to make the passage. The boy from the East rather doubted that they
would meet any worse obstacles than they had already. But Jerry was
more skeptical. When Bob ventured that he thought the trip was a cinch,
Jerry agreed, with a reservation.
“It’s been a cinch so far, but just wait. We’ve not started to get into
trouble yet. We’ll get ours all right before we’re through.”
Hardly were the words out of his mouth when more trouble ensued. The
canyon broadened and instead of the river being confined in a deep,
fast-flowing current, it was spread out into a shallow, dawdling
stream. Several times they grounded, there was so little water covering
the sand. Here and there rocks stuck above the water, and in places it
was necessary to jump out and push the boat into a deeper part.
“It seems to me we’re going to get that trouble right now,” said Bob.
“As soon as this narrows a little bit, if it doesn’t get deeper I bet
we’ll have rapids with a vengeance.”
This turned out to be the case, for the water went faster as they
proceeded, and instead of the sandy bottom, rocks became more and
more numerous, the water rushing by them with angry murmurs. Bob had
difficulty in keeping the craft from mishap. After narrowly escaping
shipwreck between two particularly vicious looking jagged stones he
decided that there was no safety in going on the way they had. Suddenly
he had an idea.
“The next time we get to a shallow spot, Jerry,” he ordered between
strokes, “take hold of the painter and jump out. We must bring the bow
up stream.”
Jerry saw that Bob must have some good reason for the maneuver and
without a word took hold of the rope which was fastened to the bow
of the light craft and slipped overboard at the first likely spot.
Pressing himself against a rock, he held taut and let the action of the
current, helped by Bob’s pulling strongly on one oar, turn the boat’s
nose in the direction from which they had come. It was ticklish work
in view of the position in which they were placed. But once around he
saw what Bob had in mind when he had planned the stunt, for as soon as
he was aboard again Bob began rowing against the current. This allowed
the boat to go very slowly down stream. In this way he had much more
control than merely backing water could give him. Besides he could see
for himself what was coming, as in a rowing position he naturally faced
the stern.
“A good idea,” commented Jerry as Bob, due to the new method of
progress, missed hitting a wicked rock.
This word of commendation from his comrade pleased Bob immensely.
It was the first word of approval he had had from his gloomy chum.
“Easier, that’s all!” he answered. But both boys were glad when a new
stretch of still water was reached.
Just before sundown next day they came to an obstacle which at first
sight rather daunted them. As they rounded a bend, the most surprising
bit of scenery they had so far encountered flashed before their eyes.
The canyon seemed to stop, to have no outlet. It was as if they had
come into an amphitheater from which there was no escape. Even the way
they had come in was not visible. The point of rocks which had made the
bend in the river merged into the sides of the canyon in such a way as
to make it seem that there was no opening at all.
“Golly!” almost whispered Bob, awed by the strangeness of the scene. “I
reckon this is why no one came through. There doesn’t seem to be any
way to get out--”
“There’s got to be a way through,” growled Jerry. “Where does the water
go? Must go somewhere; can’t stop here, that’s sure as rain.”
“P’r’aps--p’r’aps it goes through a cave,” suggested Bob. “I’ve read
about underground rivers, haven’t you?”
“Oh, shucks,” said Jerry. “Probably the way out is hidden just like the
way we’ve come. Look back. You can’t see how we got in here, can you?”
Bob had to admit this was so. “Maybe you’re right. Anyhow, it’s so dark
we can’t tell for certain. I think we’d better get ashore somewheres
and make camp. We’ll find out about it in the morning.”
When they awoke the next morning the rounded chamber of the canyon was
flooded with light.
“Find your ridge,” invited Bob politely, “the one behind which our
river flows on and on and--”
“Oh, shut up!” was Jerry’s ungrateful retort. Since he had opened his
eyes he had endeavored to find just that thing--with no success. But he
would not own up until he had had another long look. But after a while
he had to give in.
“Looks like you were right,” he said tersely. “The river must go
through a tunnel, because it sure comes out on t’other side. This
river is part of what goes through the Grand Canyon.”
Bob had the good sense not to gloat openly over Jerry’s discomfiture.
“All right,” was all he said. “But let’s find the mouth of the tunnel.
Hustle up with the grub.”
They gulped their coffee and soon cast off, letting the stream carry
them gently towards the face of the great obstruction. A few minutes
later they saw the solution of this mystery. Under the cliff the river
flowed swiftly and silently into a dark hole.
“Back water,” said Bob. “We’d better explore a little before we start
through.”
“You don’t mean to go through it, do you?” said Jerry, startled out of
his usual calm manner by the way in which the other boy had spoken.
“Why not?” returned the other. “It looks like the only way we can go,
doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Jerry, “but--I didn’t figure on anything like this.”
“We can’t go back again, can we?” asked Bob. “There doesn’t seem to be
anything else to do but to try the tunnel.”
His first surprise over, Jerry saw that Bob was right. If they didn’t
go through the tunnel they would probably never go anywhere. It would
be more than their strength could accomplish to force the boat back
through the rapids they had encountered. And even if they could reach
the top of the cliffs, Jerry knew that they would die of thirst before
they could make their way to civilization.
“You’re right, I guess,” he assented. “We’ve got to do it. Come on, we
might as well get it over.”
But Bob, who was at the oars, pulled towards the bank. “Just a jiffy,
Jerry, I’ve got a hunch. Why couldn’t a dam be built here?”
In a flash Jerry saw what Bob meant, and for a second was ashamed that
in the excitement he had forgotten the real object of their expedition.
They were out to find a place where a dam might be built that would
bring the water of life to the parched desert on the other side of
the mountain--and he had forgotten all this when his personal safety
was in danger. He looked up at the wall nature had built across the
canyon. This time it was not as an obstruction that he saw it but as
a possible location for a dam. When the boat touched the shore, he
brought out the transit and set it up. Bob waited breathlessly for his
decision. At last Jerry took his eye from the telescope.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “it looks possible to me. Better’n that, Bob, it
looks mighty lucky. Nature has given us a big help if it turns out that
it _is_ possible.”
“You think my hunch may be right then?” put in Bob, his eyes shining.
“P’r’aps this big wall might become part of the dam itself!”
“Yep! Here, take a squint through the telescope and see for yourself.
The top of this wall is more’n halfway to the top of the canyon.”
Bob applied his eye to the glass and confirmed his comrade’s statement.
“Can’t we take some measurements?” he wanted to know.
“Won’t be necessary. We couldn’t climb to the top anyway--”
“Then the transit’s no use?”
“Except as a telescope. But at that it’s told us a lot. But that was a
wonderful hunch of yours, Bob. I guess you must be a born engineer. To
put it through we’d have to stop up the mouth of the tunnel into which
the river runs. Then extra masonry work on top of the cliff would bring
it up to the necessary height.”
“I’ll bet a road could be made from the edge of the canyon to the top
of the cliff,” asserted Bob confidently, “and what work had to be done
here at the river bed could be managed by derricks and cranes from that
spot. Don’t you think so?”
“It’d be a big saving all right if it could,” exclaimed Jerry at last.
“And I believe it will work. There’s only one thing more to find out
and that is how long the tunnel is.”
“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” said Bob. “That’s to
go through it. Are you ready?”
Jerry realized that they had wonderful news to bring back to the boss.
To find a location was good work, but to find a dam almost ready-made
would mean such a saving for the Reclamation Service that the stunt
would be almost unique. It fired his enthusiasm and stilled any fears
he might have of the danger to be overcome.
“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go to it. If we get through we’ll know what we
want to know. If we--we don’t, it doesn’t make much difference, does
it, old man?”
Impulsively Bob put out his hand. “We’ll win out, Jerry, and we’ll
be proud that _we_ did it. If something should happen--it’s for the
Service!”
They felt the spirit of pioneers and an immense loyalty to the Service
and what it stood for. Jerry shook his hand warmly.
A moment later the boys were afloat. As they got near to the dark
entrance they saw that the jagged rocks which fringed the arch came
very near to the water.
“We’ll have to feel our way through,” said Bob. “Lie low until we get
in and then try to catch hold of the roof. We don’t want to go through
too fast.”
“All right,” sang out Jerry. “But I wish we had a lantern.”
“Keep wishing,” laughed Bob. “That’s about all the good it’ll do you.”
The very real danger had shaken Jerry out of his aloofness. This is
very often the case in moments of real peril when even bitter enemies
are drawn together and become friends during the moments of danger.
“Duck!” yelled Jerry.
Hardly were the words out of his mouth before the boat and its
occupants were plunged into the gloom of the cavern.
“Don’t bother about the oars,” said Bob, his voice echoing from the
walls of the passage. “It’s too dark for ’em. Try to get a hold on the
roof.”
It was some moments before their combined efforts to clutch the rocky
roof of the tunnel succeeded sufficiently to bring their boat under
control.
“Better not let go one hand till you get another hold!” cautioned
Jerry. “It’s mighty slippery.”
Foot by foot they made their way through the tunnel of dread. Cold fear
clutched at the heart of each boy, for any moment disaster might come
in one of a hundred ways--and they couldn’t see it coming!
For a time all went well, but soon Jerry said in a whisper--somehow the
dark made him whisper rather than speak aloud--“I can’t touch the roof
any more, can you?”
“No, but it’s all right,” said Bob as cheerfully as he could. “We’ll
just have to trust to luck. Sit down and let her rip!”
They slid noiselessly through the impenetrable darkness with only the
murmur of the water to break the stillness. The very quietness added
a terror of its own. There was no way of telling how fast they were
going. They could not see the water and only the rush of cold air
against their faces told them they were moving at all.
“Wonder how much longer it’ll be,” whispered Bob, forcing a little
laugh. “Seems like we’ve gone miles!”
“I’ve got beyond wondering how far we’ve got to go,” said Jerry
fervently. “I just want something to happen. Anything at all would be
better than just sitting helpless.”
After this attempt at conversation each boy relapsed into his own
gloomy thoughts. These were suddenly disturbed, however, for Jerry
called out, a note of hope in his voice, “I think I see light ahead!”
Bob looked and saw it was so. A little speck of white appeared in the
distance. Rapidly it grew larger. Now the blackness turned to a gray
and in the new light the boys saw why it was they had come through
without rubbing against the side walls.
The tunnel was absolutely straight and could not have been carved more
evenly through the mountain by the machinery of man. So swift was the
current that the boat had had no choice but to go in a straight line,
and so wide was the tunnel that there was slim chance of interference
with its walls. The boys were so thankful that they were approaching
the end of the cavern and its darkness that neither thought of picking
up the oars which were still dangling idly alongside the boat. They sat
as if fascinated, watching the opening grow larger and larger.
Nearer it came to them until at last with a swoop they were out into
the daylight. Blinking in the bright light, their eyes unaccustomed to
the sun, they did not realize that a new danger threatened them. It was
a long moment before Bob saw what a predicament they were in.
“Look out for falls!” he shouted. Jerry turned and saw that they were
on the very brink of a precipice over which the river was flowing.
It was a nasty hole they were in. From the noise the water made when
it dropped, Jerry was sure it was a long way to the bottom. Besides,
he saw in a flash that along its edge gashes of rock stuck up like
sentinels. If they were driven against any one of these it would mean
instant shipwreck.
Simultaneously the boys reached for the oars but a sudden twist in the
current swung the light craft broadside to the stream and as it turned
the bow grazed a half submerged rock. The violent shock caused Jerry
to lose his balance. Before he could so much as move, Bob saw his chum
topple overboard, where the current swept him towards the brink.
Bob’s first impulse was to jump in after Jerry, but in a flash he
realized he could help him a lot more if he could save the boat and
pull him to shore. Grabbing the oars, he made a vain effort to stem
the boat’s headway by pulling against the stream. He was too late. The
current had the frail craft in its grip.
[Illustration: “Look out for falls!” Bob shouted.]
He thrashed the water with the oars, but, in spite of his frantic
efforts, the boat was whirled towards what end he could not guess. Just
at the brink a sudden cross rip caught the boat and flung it against
one of the rocks which the hurrying waters had not been able to wear
away. A sickening crash announced the end of the craft that had given
such good service. The same jar flung Bob out and a second later he was
hurtling through the foam-laden air over the edge of the fall.
Luckily for him, the impact which had thrown him out, served to propel
him a little to one side of the spot where the wrecked boat plunged
ahead of him, and to land him in a pool of deep water. If this had not
happened and he had crashed into the boat’s wreckage, broken bones
would have been his portion. As it was, he missed this fate by only a
hair’s breadth.
After having gone deep into the pool, Bob came to the surface, his
lungs bursting. One side of his body was numb from the impact of his
fall on the surface of the water. Aside from this, he was little the
worse for his experience.
He was far too dazed to try to swim. But the whirlpool below the
fall flung him aground and, instinctively, he scrambled up a rocky
shallow out of the water. He lay there, too stupified to move. Then the
realization came that for the moment he was safe. A second afterwards
he remembered that Jerry had gone over the fall too. Something must be
done and he was the only one to do it. Pulling himself together, he
crawled to his knees and looked out over the surging water below the
fall. He could see no signs of his chum. He groaned.
The fact that Jerry was gone whirled in his head. He must find out
where his comrade was. Looking down, he saw something which had escaped
his first look. It was a black object bobbing about in an eddy off the
main rush of the current. He could not be sure that it was Jerry. His
wracked bones told him it was only driftwood--that Jerry was gone--that
he could make no further effort. But his pride and determination told
him he must go on. It might be Jerry and if he did not make sure he
could never forgive himself.
Stumbling over the rocks, he started off as fast as he could manage.
Half blinded, he slipped off a rock and was plunged into the current.
Instinct made him swim and the current helping him, he approached
rapidly the place where he thought he had seen Jerry. Little by little
his forced exertions cleared his brain and his determination to go on
made him forget his pains.
As he swam nearer to the object which was swirling around in the water,
it constantly eluded his grasp, but he saw that it was Jerry. It was as
if the river was playing tag with him, snatching the thing he wanted
out of his reach. Reason told him that Jerry was dead. What was the
use of his trying to keep up this endeavor when it was all so useless?
But something kept him striving, held him to his aim. He couldn’t give
up. With a last despairing lunge, he shot into the eddy and caught his
comrade’s shoulder. With infinite pains he swam with his prize to the
bank. Safely there, he had only strength to pull it halfway out of the
water.
He was done, spent for the moment, but the will power which had driven
him on and on roused him. He had done this much, he must do the rest
even though every muscle in his body rebelled. He dragged the lifeless
form of his friend entirely out of the water and managed to lay him
face downward over a round rock, letting his head lie low. Then Bob
flung himself on Jerry and tried with the weight of his own body
to force the water out of the other’s lungs. Only a little success
rewarded this maneuver. Next Bob let the other’s limp body roll off
onto the ground and, sitting astride of it, worked his chum’s arms up
and down to induce breathing. There was no response.
Tears of utter exhaustion streamed down Bob’s face. But he kept on. Up
and down, up and down, he pulled the other’s arms. Just as he was about
to give in to the utter refusal of his body to go on, he thought he
heard a faint sigh from his comrade. This put new strength in his arms
and new ability to continue. He was not mistaken. After another moment
Jerry again heaved a long sigh and started breathing, jerkily at first,
yet breathing. When Bob was sure that there was no mistake, that Jerry
was again in the land of the living, he rolled to one side, absolutely
all in.
It was not long, however, before their strong constitutions asserted
themselves. Soon both boys were able to sit up and take stock of what
damage had been done. Jerry was first on his feet, pale and a little
shaky, but again master of himself.
“Was it a close shave?” he asked as Bob sat up.
“You bet,” was the heartfelt answer. “I thought you were a goner sure.
But where is the boat?”
Jerry scanned the river a moment before replying: “She’s not in sight.”
“Sunk, do you think?” anxiously queried Bob. “Seems to me I remember
hitting a rock just an instant before--before I did my parachute act.”
“I don’t know. Come on and let’s see if it has gone around the bend.
At that we’ll never be able to catch up with it unless it’s grounded
somewheres.”
Without the boat, they would have no provisions. The nature of the
country didn’t promise much in the way of forage, and even if they
succeeded in climbing the canyon walls, they would probably starve
before they reached civilization. It was a terrifying prospect and each
boy realized it fully. But neither would show to the other the fear
that gripped him. Stumbling and weak they made their way over the rocks
until they could see around the bend.
“Hurray!” called Bob, who was in the lead. “There she is.”
When Jerry came up he saw what had called forth his comrade’s shout.
The boat was lying wedged between two rocks on the opposite shore, one
end entirely submerged by the rushing stream.
“Can you make it?” asked Bob. “We’ll have to swim.”
“I guess so,” answered the other. “It’s got to be done.”
Without hesitating, Bob slipped into the water and struck out. The
current carried him far down the river from the point he was making
for, but he reached the other side in safety. Jerry followed and strove
manfully, but the accident had taken a good deal of his strength and he
was thankful when Bob waded out and gave him a hand to shore.
Their boat was a wreck, they found when they came up to it. The after
water-tight compartment was completely stove in. This had caused
the stern to sink. Two things, however, were in their favor. The
front compartment, in which they had stowed their blankets, extra
clothing, matches and the transit, was still intact. Also, as the after
compartment had held only their canned eatables, the ducking had not
hurt them. Few of the cans had fallen out.
“I reckon we’ll have to wait until morning to see what we can do about
fixing the boat,” said Bob. “It’s much too dark now. Come on, we’ll
light a fire and be as comfortable as we can. We’re sort of inland
Robinson Crusoe’s, aren’t we?”