SWEPT AWAY BY A FRESHET.
The rush of waters that wrenched Binney Gibbs loose from the grasp of
the quicksand which had seized him as he remained motionless for a
minute, forgetful of his own danger in the excitement caused by that of
the team, also flung the rope they had been holding against Glen Eddy.
He held to it desperately with one hand, while, with the other arm about
his companion, he prevented him from being swept away. As the mad waters
dashed the boys from their feet and closed over them, it seemed as
though Glen's arms must be torn from their sockets, and he would have
had to let go had not Binney also succeeded in grasping the rope so that
the great strain was somewhat relieved. Gasping for breath, they both
rose to the surface.
A huge white object was bearing directly down on them. They could not
avoid it. Glen was the first to recognize its nature. "It's the wagon!"
he shouted. "Grab hold of it, and hang on for your life!"
Then it struck them and tore loose their hold of the rope. They both
managed to clutch it, though Binney's slight strength was so nearly
exhausted that, but for Glen, he must speedily have let go and sunk
again beneath the foam-flecked waters. Now the other's sturdy frame and
athletic training came splendidly to his aid. Obtaining a firm foothold
in the flooded wagon, he pulled Binney up to him by the sheer strength
of his muscular young arms. For a moment they stood together panting for
breath, and the weaker boy clinging to the stronger.
But the water was still rising; and, as the heavily laden wagon could
not float, it seemed likely to be totally submerged. "It's no use, Glen.
We'll be drowned, anyhow," said Binney, despairingly.
"Oh, no, we won't. Not just yet, anyway," answered the other, trying to
sustain his companion's spirits by speaking hopefully. "We can get out
of the water entirely, by climbing up on top of the cover, and I guess
it will bear us."
It was a suggestion worth trying; and, though the undertaking was
perilous and difficult in the extreme, under the circumstances, they
finally succeeded in accomplishing it, and found themselves perched on
the slippery, sagging surface of the canvas cover, that, supported by
stout ash bows, was stretched above the wagon.
All this time their strange craft, though not floating, was borne slowly
but steadily down stream by the force of the current. Every now and then
it seemed as though about to capsize; and, had it been empty, it must
certainly have done so; but its heavy load, acting like ballast in a
boat, kept it upright. It headed in all directions, and at times, when
its wheels could revolve on the bottom of the river, it moved steadily
and rapidly. It was when it got turned broadside to the current that the
two shivering figures, clutching at their uncertain support, became most
apprehensive, and expected it to be overturned by the great pressure
brought to bear against it.
[Illustration: "THE STRANGE CRAFT WAS BORNE SLOWLY DOWN STREAM."]
How slowly the minutes and hours dragged by! It was about midnight when
the freshet struck them and they started on this most extraordinary
voyage; but from that time until they saw the first streaks of rosy
light in the east seemed an eternity.
More than once during the night the wagon brought up against some
obstruction, and remained motionless for longer or shorter intervals of
time; but it had always been forced ahead again, and made to resume its
uncertain wanderings.
Now, as the welcome daylight crept slowly over the scene, it found the
strange ark, with its two occupants, again stranded, and this time
immovably so. At length Glen exclaimed, joyfully: "There's the western
bank, the very one we want to reach, close to us. I believe we can swim
to it, as easy as not."
"But I can't swim, you know," replied Binney, dolefully.
"That's so; I forgot," said Glen, in a dismayed tone. "But look," he
added, and again there was a hopeful ring to his voice, "there are the
tops of some bushes between us and it. The water can't be very deep
there. Perhaps we can touch bottom, and you can wade if you can't swim.
I'm going over there and take soundings."
Binney dreaded being left alone, and was about to beg his companion not
to desert him, but the words were checked on his lips by the thought of
the reputation he had to sustain. So, as Glen pulled off his wet
clothing, he said, "All right, only be very careful and don't go too
far, for I think I would rather drown with you than be left here all
alone."
"Never fear!" cried Glen; "swimming is about the one thing I can do. So,
here goes!"
He had climbed down, and stood on the edge of the submerged wagon body
as he spoke. Now he sprang far out in the yellow waters, and the next
moment was making his way easily through them towards the bushes. The
swift current carried him down-stream; but at length he caught one of
them, and, letting his feet sink, touched bottom in water up to his
neck.
"It's all right!" he shouted back to Binney. Pulling himself along from
one bit of willow to another, he waded towards the bank until the water
was not more than up to his waist. Then he made his way up-stream until
he was some distance above the place where the wagon was stranded, and,
two minutes later, he had waded and swum back to it.
Binney had watched every movement anxiously, and now he said, "That's
all well enough for you; but I don't see how I am going to get there."
"By resting your hands on my shoulders and letting me swim with you till
you can touch bottom, of course," answered Glen.
He could not realize Binney's dread of the water, nor what a struggle
against his natural timidity took place in the boy's mind before he
answered, "Very well, if you say so, Glen, I'll trust you."
While he was laying aside his water-soaked clothing and preparing for
the dreaded undertaking, Glen suddenly uttered an exclamation of dismay.
He had spied several horsemen riding along the river-bank towards them.
Were they white men or Indians? Did their coming mean life or death?
"I'm afraid they are Indians," said Glen; "for our camp must be ten
miles off."
Binney agreed with him that they must have come at least that distance
during the night, and the boys watched the oncoming horsemen with heavy
hearts.
"I'd rather drown than let them get me again," said Glen.
But Binney had not had the other's experience with Indians, and to him
nothing could be more terrible than water.
Long and earnestly they watched, filled with alternate hopes and fears.
The riders seemed to move very slowly. All at once, Glen uttered a shout
of joy. "They are white men!" he cried. "I can see their hats;" and,
seizing his wet shirt, he began to wave it frantically above his head.
That his signal was seen was announced by a distant cheer, and several
shots fired in quick succession. A few minutes later, six white men
reined in their horses on the bank, just abreast the wagon. They were
hardly able to credit their eyes as they recognized, in the two naked
figures clinging to it, those whom they had been so certain were long
ago drowned, and for whose bodies they were searching. As they hurriedly
consulted concerning how best to effect a rescue, they were amazed to
see both boys clamber down from their perch, and drop into the turbid
waters, one after the other. When they realized that Glen and Binney
were swimming, and trying in this way to reach the shore, they forced
their horses down the steep bank and dashed into the shallow overflow of
the bottom-land to meet them.
At that moment Binney Gibbs, by trusting himself so implicitly to Glen's
strength and skill, in an element where he was so utterly helpless, was
displaying a greater courage than where, acting under impulse, he sprang
from his mule the day before, and ran back to fight Indians. The bravest
deeds are always those that are performed deliberately and after a
careful consideration of their possible consequences.
As "Billy" Brackett, who was the first to reach the boys, relieved Glen
of his burden, he exclaimed,
"Well, if I had the luck of you fellows I'd change my name to Vanderbilt
and run for Congress! We were sure you were gone up this time, and the
best I hoped for was to find your bodies. Instead of that, here you are,
hardly out of sight of camp, perched on the top of a wagon, as chipper
as a couple of sparrows after a rainstorm."
"Where is camp?" inquired Glen, who was now wading easily along beside
the other's horse.
"Just around that farther bend, up there."
"What made it come so far down the river, and off the road?"
"It hasn't. It's right at the ford, where we crossed last night."
"But I thought that was at least ten miles from here."
"Ten miles! Why, my son, you must have imagined you were travelling on a
four-wheeled steamboat all night, instead of an old water-logged prairie
schooner. We are not, at this minute, quite a mile from the place where
you started on your cruise."
It was hard for the boys to realize the truth of this statement; but so
it was; and, during those tedious hours of darkness they had only
travelled rods instead of miles, as they had fancied.
After the short delay necessary to recover the boys' clothing from the
wagon, they were triumphantly borne back to camp by the rescuing-party.
There the enthusiasm with which they were received was only equalled by
the amazement of those who crowded about them and listened to the
account of their adventure.
By means of a double team of mules, and some stout ropes, even the wagon
on which they had made their curious voyage was recovered, and found to
be still serviceable, though the greater part of its load was ruined.
The river was still an impassable stream, as wide as the Mississippi at
St. Louis, and was many feet deep over the place, on its farther side,
where they had camped at sunset. Thus there was no danger of another
attack from Indians. Two hours after sunrise the explorers were again
wending their way westward, rejoicing over their double escape, and over
the recovery of the two members who had been given up as lost.