Chapter Eighteen.The Brig Jibs.Another fortnight’s sailing brought the travellers abreast of a river which flowed slowly and sluggishly into the stream they had ascended, just when its waters had begun to grow clearer and more shallow. It had become more rapid too in its course, and everything suggested that they were gradually gaining higher ground. In addition, in spite of the favourable breezes they enjoyed, the brig could now hardly stem the current.The consequence was that at the captain’s suggestion the more sluggish waters of the confluent river were entered, and the fresh course slowly pursued ever northward and westward for weeks, till it became plain that much further progress could not be made in the brig itself.The banks had closed in so that every night the vessel could have been moored to some large tree; but one night’s experience of this proved to be sufficient for the travellers, too many of the occupants of the forest giant finding their way on board and interfering with their comfort, and as the vessel swung in the stream boughs of neighbouring trees entangled themselves with the rigging.“It’s all right by a wharf,” said the captain, “or in a dock; but it won’t do here.”And in future they always anchored in midstream just before darkness fell.And now, hour by hour, they had warning that their further progress with the brig would soon come to an end.“And it’s my belief, gentlemen, that it will be before night,” said the captain one morning when they were all seated together beneath the awning chatting. “If you keep quite still, you can hear the stopper.”“Stopper? What do you mean?” asked Sir Humphrey, in a surprised tone. He was once more pretty well his old self.“Well, bar, then. There, you can hear it quite plain now.”“Do you mean that low murmur?” said Brace, who was listening intently. “I thought it was the wind.”“No, sir, it’s the water,” said the captain. “That’s either a fall or else some rapids. I’ve been noticing lots of little signs of a change lately, and if it wasn’t for this steady wind we shouldn’t be moving at all. See how clear the water is?”“Yes, I’ve noticed that it has been gradually becoming clearer,” said Brace. “But do you notice that the wind is dropping?”“Yes, we are leaving it behind, and it strikes me that if you like to try about here or a little higher up you’ll get some sport.”“Then we’ll try,” said Brace, “when we anchor for the night.”As the morning progressed, the wind rose higher and the river widened. It was as if the opening out gave play to the breeze, and a good ten miles were run before sundry warnings of shallowing water made the captain give orders for reducing the sail; but, in spite of this, as the brig rounded a curve which disclosed to the delighted vision of the travellers a glorious landscape of open park-like country backed by mountains, with the sparkling waters of a furious rapid running from side to side where the river contracted again after opening out like a lake, there was a soft grinding sensation, and the way of the vessel was slowly checked, while the next minute it was fully grasped that they were fast on a sandbank, with the open forest on one side only a hundred yards or so away, and on the other fully a mile.“We’ve done it now, squire,” said the captain, turning to Brace and mopping his face with a handkerchief he took out of the crown of his straw hat.“Done it?”“Yes; here we are, wrecked and set fast in the bed of the river.”“But I suppose we shall only remain here for an hour or two.”“Or for a year or two, or altogether, my lad. Maybe we shall never be able to get the brig off again; but we must hope for the best. It’s just as if we were set in the ice up yonder in the Arctic regions, eh?”“This place is not very Arctic,” said Brace, laughing.“No, my lad, not very,” said the captain, as Sir Humphrey came up. “We seem to be in for it now, sir.”“Yes, but I suppose we are not stuck very fast. You’ll send out an anchor and haul upon it with the capstan.”“Wouldn’t be any good, sir. We’re fast in the sand upon an upright keel, and until the water rises after a storm here we stick.”“But you talked about throwing over some of the ballast to lighten the vessel if a case like this occurred,” said Brace.“Yes, squire, that would do perhaps; but what then? Go back?”“Go back!” cried Brace; “certainly not. We want to go forward.”“Then you’ll have to go another way,” said the captain decisively, “for the brig has done her work.”“But you’ll be able to get her off in a short time?”“I daresay I can, but look yonder at that cloud,” said the captain, and he pointed towards where, faintly seen, a rainbow spanned the river above a rolling white cloud.“What does that mean, captain—a shower?” Brace asked.“Yes,” said the captain, “a heavy one, squire, falling over the rocks in hundreds of tons a minute. There’s our limit. That’s a cloud of spray from some grand falls which I daresay run right across the river. I shouldn’t wonder if the country rises now in steps right away to the mountains. If we could get up that fall, maybe we could go on sailing for a hundred miles before we came to another; but it is not possible to get the brig up, and, between ourselves, I think we’ve done wonders to get her up here so far.”“But suppose we content ourselves with getting so far as this, and, when we have got the brig off, turn her round and go back to the main stream and sail up there?” asked Sir Humphrey.“Which, sir?” said the captain, smiling; “the Amazons seem to be all main streams, winding over thousands of miles of country, as far as we can make out; but if we go back it’s a chance if we get up so far as we here.”Sir Humphrey merely nodded in reply to the captain’s remarks, and then they all rose and walked away in different directions, each of them evidently trying to think of a means of getting over the difficulty which confronted them.
Another fortnight’s sailing brought the travellers abreast of a river which flowed slowly and sluggishly into the stream they had ascended, just when its waters had begun to grow clearer and more shallow. It had become more rapid too in its course, and everything suggested that they were gradually gaining higher ground. In addition, in spite of the favourable breezes they enjoyed, the brig could now hardly stem the current.
The consequence was that at the captain’s suggestion the more sluggish waters of the confluent river were entered, and the fresh course slowly pursued ever northward and westward for weeks, till it became plain that much further progress could not be made in the brig itself.
The banks had closed in so that every night the vessel could have been moored to some large tree; but one night’s experience of this proved to be sufficient for the travellers, too many of the occupants of the forest giant finding their way on board and interfering with their comfort, and as the vessel swung in the stream boughs of neighbouring trees entangled themselves with the rigging.
“It’s all right by a wharf,” said the captain, “or in a dock; but it won’t do here.”
And in future they always anchored in midstream just before darkness fell.
And now, hour by hour, they had warning that their further progress with the brig would soon come to an end.
“And it’s my belief, gentlemen, that it will be before night,” said the captain one morning when they were all seated together beneath the awning chatting. “If you keep quite still, you can hear the stopper.”
“Stopper? What do you mean?” asked Sir Humphrey, in a surprised tone. He was once more pretty well his old self.
“Well, bar, then. There, you can hear it quite plain now.”
“Do you mean that low murmur?” said Brace, who was listening intently. “I thought it was the wind.”
“No, sir, it’s the water,” said the captain. “That’s either a fall or else some rapids. I’ve been noticing lots of little signs of a change lately, and if it wasn’t for this steady wind we shouldn’t be moving at all. See how clear the water is?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that it has been gradually becoming clearer,” said Brace. “But do you notice that the wind is dropping?”
“Yes, we are leaving it behind, and it strikes me that if you like to try about here or a little higher up you’ll get some sport.”
“Then we’ll try,” said Brace, “when we anchor for the night.”
As the morning progressed, the wind rose higher and the river widened. It was as if the opening out gave play to the breeze, and a good ten miles were run before sundry warnings of shallowing water made the captain give orders for reducing the sail; but, in spite of this, as the brig rounded a curve which disclosed to the delighted vision of the travellers a glorious landscape of open park-like country backed by mountains, with the sparkling waters of a furious rapid running from side to side where the river contracted again after opening out like a lake, there was a soft grinding sensation, and the way of the vessel was slowly checked, while the next minute it was fully grasped that they were fast on a sandbank, with the open forest on one side only a hundred yards or so away, and on the other fully a mile.
“We’ve done it now, squire,” said the captain, turning to Brace and mopping his face with a handkerchief he took out of the crown of his straw hat.
“Done it?”
“Yes; here we are, wrecked and set fast in the bed of the river.”
“But I suppose we shall only remain here for an hour or two.”
“Or for a year or two, or altogether, my lad. Maybe we shall never be able to get the brig off again; but we must hope for the best. It’s just as if we were set in the ice up yonder in the Arctic regions, eh?”
“This place is not very Arctic,” said Brace, laughing.
“No, my lad, not very,” said the captain, as Sir Humphrey came up. “We seem to be in for it now, sir.”
“Yes, but I suppose we are not stuck very fast. You’ll send out an anchor and haul upon it with the capstan.”
“Wouldn’t be any good, sir. We’re fast in the sand upon an upright keel, and until the water rises after a storm here we stick.”
“But you talked about throwing over some of the ballast to lighten the vessel if a case like this occurred,” said Brace.
“Yes, squire, that would do perhaps; but what then? Go back?”
“Go back!” cried Brace; “certainly not. We want to go forward.”
“Then you’ll have to go another way,” said the captain decisively, “for the brig has done her work.”
“But you’ll be able to get her off in a short time?”
“I daresay I can, but look yonder at that cloud,” said the captain, and he pointed towards where, faintly seen, a rainbow spanned the river above a rolling white cloud.
“What does that mean, captain—a shower?” Brace asked.
“Yes,” said the captain, “a heavy one, squire, falling over the rocks in hundreds of tons a minute. There’s our limit. That’s a cloud of spray from some grand falls which I daresay run right across the river. I shouldn’t wonder if the country rises now in steps right away to the mountains. If we could get up that fall, maybe we could go on sailing for a hundred miles before we came to another; but it is not possible to get the brig up, and, between ourselves, I think we’ve done wonders to get her up here so far.”
“But suppose we content ourselves with getting so far as this, and, when we have got the brig off, turn her round and go back to the main stream and sail up there?” asked Sir Humphrey.
“Which, sir?” said the captain, smiling; “the Amazons seem to be all main streams, winding over thousands of miles of country, as far as we can make out; but if we go back it’s a chance if we get up so far as we here.”
Sir Humphrey merely nodded in reply to the captain’s remarks, and then they all rose and walked away in different directions, each of them evidently trying to think of a means of getting over the difficulty which confronted them.
Chapter Nineteen.Discussing Plans.The next time the party were assembled was over the midday meal, when the conversation naturally turned to the question of continuing their voyage or going back.Brace broke out with the exclamation: “We must not be beaten by a little difficulty such as this!” but his brother checked him by laying a hand upon his arm and turning to Briscoe.“What were you going to say?” he asked the American.“Firstly, gentlemen, that I don’t want to interfere. Go where you like and how you like: it’s all interesting to me; but you won’t mind hearing my opinion?”“Certainly not,” said Sir Humphrey. “What do you think?”“That we have arrived in a thoroughly wild country which most likely no one has ever reached before.”“Yes,” said Sir Humphrey.“So how would it be to make this headquarters and ask Captain Banes to rig out the biggest boat with sail and some canvas and a light pole to set up from end to end of a night to cover her in, and then row and sail up wherever we could as long as our provisions lasted? Fresh water we shouldn’t have to carry; we could bring down something with our guns, or hook up something with fishing-lines; and I daresay we might get up hundreds of miles, for we should be sure to come upon side streams. That’s only my idea, gentlemen. If you think differently I’m quite contented. I’m ready to keep to the bargain I have made. To me this is a regular naturalist’s paradise.”“I quite agree with you, Mr Briscoe,” said Sir Humphrey warmly, “and now that my weakness and the lack of spirit brought about by the effect of my wound are passing away I am getting more contented with the cruise every hour.”“Yes, sir, you alter every day,” said the American, smiling.“What do you think of the plan, captain?” said Sir Humphrey.“Splendid, sir,” was the reply. “I like it tremendously, and I was going to propose something of the kind myself. You see, you’ll never want for help. My lads will be just like a set of schoolboys going out for a holiday. The only ones who will grumble will be those who have to stop aboard the brig. I’m like Mr Briscoe: ready to go where you like, and how you like: you two gents have only to say the word; and I don’t think you’ll better that plan.”“What do you say, Brace?” said his brother, turning to him.“Well, at first I didn’t like the idea at all: it sounded so much like being beaten and having to make a fresh start; but I think now that it’s just what we as good as planned to do when we set off. When shall we start?”“It seems to me,” said Sir Humphrey, smiling, “that Briscoe’s motion is carried unanimously. As to starting, we might take a boat and begin exploring at once, making day excursions. The longer ones would depend upon how soon Captain Banes could get the longboat ready.”“By to-morrow morning would do for me, sir,” said the captain bluffly.“But you would not be able to fix up the boat in such a short time.”“There’s really nothing to do, sir. There’s a hole in the thwart fore and aft for a short upright to carry the spar the length of the boat, and we’d make that do for mast as well. Dellow could soon cut us up a bit of canvas that would do for sail and extra cover to rig up o’ nights. You’d better have the stern covered in with a regular awning. We’ll be ready for you by daylight, gentlemen.”“That will be capital. Can you let us have one of the other boats, so that we can row up towards the falls at once?” said Brace.“You can sail, squire, and save the men’s arms in the hot sun. Plenty of wind for that.”“Capital,” said Brace. “You might come with us, Free.”“No,” said his brother; “I had better wait a few days longer before I begin.”“What will you occupy yourself with whilst we are away?” asked Brace.“Oh, I shall find something to do. I’ll stop and help Captain Banes, and see to the stores for tomorrow’s expedition.”“Do you feel strong enough?” said Brace anxiously.“I am getting stronger every day. There, take the guns with you and try and knock over a few ducks. I’ve noticed several fly up the river since we’ve been here.”“All right,” said Brace. “We’ll try to get some for the cook.”“And I say, squire,” cried the captain, “when I was a boy, whenever I got a chance I was off fishing, and I learned from experience that the best place, and where the fish gathered most to feed upon what came down a river, was just where the water fell below a weir.”“Yes,” said Brace; “I should think that would be the best place for fishing.”“Well, then, as the old saying goes, ‘A nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.’ You don’t want me to tell you that you’re going to sail to a great natural weir of rock, up to which the fish from hundreds and hundreds of miles of big river swim in great shoals to feed.”“You mean that we should take some tackle with us?”“That’s right, and, by Jingo, the very thought of it makes me want to come with you and have a try.”“Come, then,” cried Brace, “and have a good day’s sport with us.”“Nay, nay, nay, my lad: duty first, pleasure after. I’ve got to put out anchors and see to the provisioning of that boat.”“Let Mr Dellow do it. He’ll be able to see to that all right.”“No,” said the captain shortly. “You go and try. Another time I should like to go with you and be a boy again.”“Well, you know your own business best; so we must put off the pleasure of having you with us till another day,” said Brace.“Yes,” the captain replied; “but I warn you to take care, my lad. No going overboard. I wouldn’t give much for your chance of getting out of the water again.”“But there are not likely to be any alligators or crocodiles there.”“I dunno,” said the captain. “I shouldn’t like to risk it. There’s likely to be plenty of all kinds of dangerous fish or reptiles up yonder, and size don’t count. A thousand of the little tiny sticklebacks of fish in these rivers are more dangerous than one big fellow ten foot long.”A quarter of an hour after the meal was finished, Lynton, Dan, and four of the sailors, with their faces full of sunshine, had taken their seats in a boat which had been lowered, while the men left on board looked down at them as if through clouds.“I hope you will be careful, my lad,” said Sir Humphrey.“You may trust me, Free; I shall not do anything rash,” said Brace, laughing.“I shall look forward to a pleasant evening over your specimens, Briscoe,” said Sir Humphrey, speaking more warmly to the American than had been his custom.“I hope I shan’t disappoint you, sir,” was the reply.“Got all your guns and ammunition, squire?” cried the captain.“Yes, quite right.”“And fishing-tackle and bait and everything else you will need?”“Yes; I believe we have taken everything aboard,” was the reply.“I’ll tell the cook to have a good fire made up in the galley for roasting the ducks you are going to shoot and the frying-pan ready for the fish you are going to catch.”“All right,” cried Brace merrily. “Ready, Mr Lynton?”“Ay, ay, sir.”“Then push off.”The man holding on with the boat-hook gave a good thrust, and the boat glided away from the brig’s side with the swift stream, which rolled over the sandbank, caught the boat, and whirled her away. But the little mast was already up forward and the rudder hooked on, so that when the lug-sail had been hoisted and had bellied out, the boat, answering quickly to a touch of the tiller, glided through the water, soon recovering the ground she had lost, and, careening over, swept by the motionless brig, whose sails were now furled.“Hah!” cried Brace, as they began to race before the breeze, “this is the sort of river I like. Look, Briscoe, how clear it is. You can see the bottom now and then.”“And the fish,” said the American. “Brace Leigh, I begin to think we’re going to have plenty of sport up here.”
The next time the party were assembled was over the midday meal, when the conversation naturally turned to the question of continuing their voyage or going back.
Brace broke out with the exclamation: “We must not be beaten by a little difficulty such as this!” but his brother checked him by laying a hand upon his arm and turning to Briscoe.
“What were you going to say?” he asked the American.
“Firstly, gentlemen, that I don’t want to interfere. Go where you like and how you like: it’s all interesting to me; but you won’t mind hearing my opinion?”
“Certainly not,” said Sir Humphrey. “What do you think?”
“That we have arrived in a thoroughly wild country which most likely no one has ever reached before.”
“Yes,” said Sir Humphrey.
“So how would it be to make this headquarters and ask Captain Banes to rig out the biggest boat with sail and some canvas and a light pole to set up from end to end of a night to cover her in, and then row and sail up wherever we could as long as our provisions lasted? Fresh water we shouldn’t have to carry; we could bring down something with our guns, or hook up something with fishing-lines; and I daresay we might get up hundreds of miles, for we should be sure to come upon side streams. That’s only my idea, gentlemen. If you think differently I’m quite contented. I’m ready to keep to the bargain I have made. To me this is a regular naturalist’s paradise.”
“I quite agree with you, Mr Briscoe,” said Sir Humphrey warmly, “and now that my weakness and the lack of spirit brought about by the effect of my wound are passing away I am getting more contented with the cruise every hour.”
“Yes, sir, you alter every day,” said the American, smiling.
“What do you think of the plan, captain?” said Sir Humphrey.
“Splendid, sir,” was the reply. “I like it tremendously, and I was going to propose something of the kind myself. You see, you’ll never want for help. My lads will be just like a set of schoolboys going out for a holiday. The only ones who will grumble will be those who have to stop aboard the brig. I’m like Mr Briscoe: ready to go where you like, and how you like: you two gents have only to say the word; and I don’t think you’ll better that plan.”
“What do you say, Brace?” said his brother, turning to him.
“Well, at first I didn’t like the idea at all: it sounded so much like being beaten and having to make a fresh start; but I think now that it’s just what we as good as planned to do when we set off. When shall we start?”
“It seems to me,” said Sir Humphrey, smiling, “that Briscoe’s motion is carried unanimously. As to starting, we might take a boat and begin exploring at once, making day excursions. The longer ones would depend upon how soon Captain Banes could get the longboat ready.”
“By to-morrow morning would do for me, sir,” said the captain bluffly.
“But you would not be able to fix up the boat in such a short time.”
“There’s really nothing to do, sir. There’s a hole in the thwart fore and aft for a short upright to carry the spar the length of the boat, and we’d make that do for mast as well. Dellow could soon cut us up a bit of canvas that would do for sail and extra cover to rig up o’ nights. You’d better have the stern covered in with a regular awning. We’ll be ready for you by daylight, gentlemen.”
“That will be capital. Can you let us have one of the other boats, so that we can row up towards the falls at once?” said Brace.
“You can sail, squire, and save the men’s arms in the hot sun. Plenty of wind for that.”
“Capital,” said Brace. “You might come with us, Free.”
“No,” said his brother; “I had better wait a few days longer before I begin.”
“What will you occupy yourself with whilst we are away?” asked Brace.
“Oh, I shall find something to do. I’ll stop and help Captain Banes, and see to the stores for tomorrow’s expedition.”
“Do you feel strong enough?” said Brace anxiously.
“I am getting stronger every day. There, take the guns with you and try and knock over a few ducks. I’ve noticed several fly up the river since we’ve been here.”
“All right,” said Brace. “We’ll try to get some for the cook.”
“And I say, squire,” cried the captain, “when I was a boy, whenever I got a chance I was off fishing, and I learned from experience that the best place, and where the fish gathered most to feed upon what came down a river, was just where the water fell below a weir.”
“Yes,” said Brace; “I should think that would be the best place for fishing.”
“Well, then, as the old saying goes, ‘A nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.’ You don’t want me to tell you that you’re going to sail to a great natural weir of rock, up to which the fish from hundreds and hundreds of miles of big river swim in great shoals to feed.”
“You mean that we should take some tackle with us?”
“That’s right, and, by Jingo, the very thought of it makes me want to come with you and have a try.”
“Come, then,” cried Brace, “and have a good day’s sport with us.”
“Nay, nay, nay, my lad: duty first, pleasure after. I’ve got to put out anchors and see to the provisioning of that boat.”
“Let Mr Dellow do it. He’ll be able to see to that all right.”
“No,” said the captain shortly. “You go and try. Another time I should like to go with you and be a boy again.”
“Well, you know your own business best; so we must put off the pleasure of having you with us till another day,” said Brace.
“Yes,” the captain replied; “but I warn you to take care, my lad. No going overboard. I wouldn’t give much for your chance of getting out of the water again.”
“But there are not likely to be any alligators or crocodiles there.”
“I dunno,” said the captain. “I shouldn’t like to risk it. There’s likely to be plenty of all kinds of dangerous fish or reptiles up yonder, and size don’t count. A thousand of the little tiny sticklebacks of fish in these rivers are more dangerous than one big fellow ten foot long.”
A quarter of an hour after the meal was finished, Lynton, Dan, and four of the sailors, with their faces full of sunshine, had taken their seats in a boat which had been lowered, while the men left on board looked down at them as if through clouds.
“I hope you will be careful, my lad,” said Sir Humphrey.
“You may trust me, Free; I shall not do anything rash,” said Brace, laughing.
“I shall look forward to a pleasant evening over your specimens, Briscoe,” said Sir Humphrey, speaking more warmly to the American than had been his custom.
“I hope I shan’t disappoint you, sir,” was the reply.
“Got all your guns and ammunition, squire?” cried the captain.
“Yes, quite right.”
“And fishing-tackle and bait and everything else you will need?”
“Yes; I believe we have taken everything aboard,” was the reply.
“I’ll tell the cook to have a good fire made up in the galley for roasting the ducks you are going to shoot and the frying-pan ready for the fish you are going to catch.”
“All right,” cried Brace merrily. “Ready, Mr Lynton?”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Then push off.”
The man holding on with the boat-hook gave a good thrust, and the boat glided away from the brig’s side with the swift stream, which rolled over the sandbank, caught the boat, and whirled her away. But the little mast was already up forward and the rudder hooked on, so that when the lug-sail had been hoisted and had bellied out, the boat, answering quickly to a touch of the tiller, glided through the water, soon recovering the ground she had lost, and, careening over, swept by the motionless brig, whose sails were now furled.
“Hah!” cried Brace, as they began to race before the breeze, “this is the sort of river I like. Look, Briscoe, how clear it is. You can see the bottom now and then.”
“And the fish,” said the American. “Brace Leigh, I begin to think we’re going to have plenty of sport up here.”
Chapter Twenty.Brace Leigh’s Sport.“So we’re to think of the pot and pan as well as of our specimens,” said Briscoe, loading both barrels of his gun.“I fancy we shall have plenty of chances for doing both,” said Brace, following suit. “How well the boat sails! Why, we have got quite a long distance from the brig already.”“Yes, and we’re stemming a pretty good current too,” said Lynton, who was steering with one hand and taking out a stout fishing-line from the boat’s locker with the other. “But wouldn’t you like to have a turn with a spoon-bait as we are going along? I don’t know what fish we’re going to catch, but I expect there’ll be plenty of gar pike or something of that kind.”“Well, you begin,” said Brace. “I’ll have a turn later on. I want to try for a duck or something else eatable, and to have a look at the country round about as well. I say, aren’t we carrying too much sail?”“Not a bit,” said Lynton. “Look, I can ease off in a moment. See?”“Yes,” said Brace, as, with a touch at the tiller, the boat grew more level instead of careening over as she ran; “that’s right.”The boat glided smoothly along now on an even keel, and they all enjoyed the magnificent scenery as they passed near the bank, with the forest running right down to the brink of the stream and occasionally opening out into avenues of gigantic trees.Lynton was busying himself with the tackle as they sailed on, when Brace turned to him and said:“You don’t expect to catch anything with that great drag-hook, do you?”And he laughed at the large triangle hanging beneath a huge spoon, and furnished with a double arrangement of swivels.“Indeed, but I do,” was the reply. “Here, catch hold of the tiller, my lad. Steady. A little slower now.”“Shall we take in a reef, sir?” said Dan, who was holding the sheet.“Oh, no, that will do, only take care you don’t capsize us.”He then turned to Brace once more and continued the conversation about the fishing-tackle.“Yes, Mr Brace,” he said, “that spoon will spin splendidly, and I don’t expect the fish here have been educated so far as to know what a fish-hook is. They’ve a lot to learn before they grow shy of an artificial bait. Think that lead will be heavy enough?”“Yes, quite enough to scare away a shark. What nonsense! I should put on something small and light. We’re not at sea.”“I know that, sir; but just you wait a bit and see. Ease off that sheet a little more, Dan,” cried Lynton. “That’s better. I say, we’re opening up into quite a lake.”“The scenery is glorious,” said Brace. “Look, there’s plenty of dense forest too beyond that open part we are passing.”“Yes, and there’s the waterfall,” cried Briscoe. “It’s grand.”Brace nodded and sat with parted lips, gazing at the grand display of falling water which was now almost directly ahead.The whole river, which was very nearly half a mile wide at this spot, tumbled over a ridge of rocks which barred its passage, and dropped in places fully fifty feet with a dull murmuring roar which now began to be plainly heard.“Are you looking at the falls, Lynton?” cried Brace.“Not yet. I’m too busy just now. I want to get the line out first. There she goes, and good luck to her.”He dropped the great spoon and its armature of hooks over the side, and Brace glanced after it, to see it for a few moments as the line was allowed to run, the silvered unfishlike piece of metal beginning to spin and, as it receded farther from the boat, to assume a wonderfully lifelike resemblance to a good-sized roach swimming pretty fast.It disappeared in a very few moments in the disturbed water, but soon after it rose to the surface again and began to make leaps and darts of a yard or two in length.“I thought so,” said Lynton drily. “That weight isn’t heavy enough for the rate at which we’re travelling.”“Let out more line,” said Brace, “and it may sink lower then.”The mate nodded, and drew about a dozen more yards from the open winder.“That ought to do it,” he said. “I’ll give the line a twist round that thole-pin, and then we shall hear it rattle if there’s a bite and—here—hi! Bless my soul!”Whizz!whoop!bang!The thole-pin had darted overboard, the winder was snatched from Lynton’s hand and struck violently against the steersman’s leg.Then both he and the mate made a dart at it to stop it, but came heavily in contact as they stooped. The tiller flew wide, and the boat careened over so dangerously that, if the man who held the sheet had not hastily let go so that the sail went flying, the mate would have gone over the side, and would soon have been left behind, as the boat was now going along at a considerable speed.It was only a matter of a moment or two, and then the tiller was steadied, the sheet hauled home, and the boat glided swiftly on once more.“I say,” cried Briscoe, as Dan sat grinning with delight, “what’s it all about?”“About?” cried Lynton angrily; “why, my bait was taken by either a shark or an alligator. There’s a hundred yards of new line gone. What’s to be done now?”“You’d better rig up another, I should say,” said the American drily, “and hold on and give out when the fish runs.”“It’s a rum un,” muttered the mate. “I say, my lad, just keep your head out of my way next time. Are you aware that it’s just about as hard as a cocoanut?”“Never mind, Lynton,” cried Brace. “Get out another line as soon as you can, while the fish are biting so freely.”“I don’t know about that. The old man will kick up a row about that line being lost. It was his, and he’ll want to know how it came about that I lost it.”“Never mind: we brought plenty with us. Look sharp.”
“So we’re to think of the pot and pan as well as of our specimens,” said Briscoe, loading both barrels of his gun.
“I fancy we shall have plenty of chances for doing both,” said Brace, following suit. “How well the boat sails! Why, we have got quite a long distance from the brig already.”
“Yes, and we’re stemming a pretty good current too,” said Lynton, who was steering with one hand and taking out a stout fishing-line from the boat’s locker with the other. “But wouldn’t you like to have a turn with a spoon-bait as we are going along? I don’t know what fish we’re going to catch, but I expect there’ll be plenty of gar pike or something of that kind.”
“Well, you begin,” said Brace. “I’ll have a turn later on. I want to try for a duck or something else eatable, and to have a look at the country round about as well. I say, aren’t we carrying too much sail?”
“Not a bit,” said Lynton. “Look, I can ease off in a moment. See?”
“Yes,” said Brace, as, with a touch at the tiller, the boat grew more level instead of careening over as she ran; “that’s right.”
The boat glided smoothly along now on an even keel, and they all enjoyed the magnificent scenery as they passed near the bank, with the forest running right down to the brink of the stream and occasionally opening out into avenues of gigantic trees.
Lynton was busying himself with the tackle as they sailed on, when Brace turned to him and said:
“You don’t expect to catch anything with that great drag-hook, do you?”
And he laughed at the large triangle hanging beneath a huge spoon, and furnished with a double arrangement of swivels.
“Indeed, but I do,” was the reply. “Here, catch hold of the tiller, my lad. Steady. A little slower now.”
“Shall we take in a reef, sir?” said Dan, who was holding the sheet.
“Oh, no, that will do, only take care you don’t capsize us.”
He then turned to Brace once more and continued the conversation about the fishing-tackle.
“Yes, Mr Brace,” he said, “that spoon will spin splendidly, and I don’t expect the fish here have been educated so far as to know what a fish-hook is. They’ve a lot to learn before they grow shy of an artificial bait. Think that lead will be heavy enough?”
“Yes, quite enough to scare away a shark. What nonsense! I should put on something small and light. We’re not at sea.”
“I know that, sir; but just you wait a bit and see. Ease off that sheet a little more, Dan,” cried Lynton. “That’s better. I say, we’re opening up into quite a lake.”
“The scenery is glorious,” said Brace. “Look, there’s plenty of dense forest too beyond that open part we are passing.”
“Yes, and there’s the waterfall,” cried Briscoe. “It’s grand.”
Brace nodded and sat with parted lips, gazing at the grand display of falling water which was now almost directly ahead.
The whole river, which was very nearly half a mile wide at this spot, tumbled over a ridge of rocks which barred its passage, and dropped in places fully fifty feet with a dull murmuring roar which now began to be plainly heard.
“Are you looking at the falls, Lynton?” cried Brace.
“Not yet. I’m too busy just now. I want to get the line out first. There she goes, and good luck to her.”
He dropped the great spoon and its armature of hooks over the side, and Brace glanced after it, to see it for a few moments as the line was allowed to run, the silvered unfishlike piece of metal beginning to spin and, as it receded farther from the boat, to assume a wonderfully lifelike resemblance to a good-sized roach swimming pretty fast.
It disappeared in a very few moments in the disturbed water, but soon after it rose to the surface again and began to make leaps and darts of a yard or two in length.
“I thought so,” said Lynton drily. “That weight isn’t heavy enough for the rate at which we’re travelling.”
“Let out more line,” said Brace, “and it may sink lower then.”
The mate nodded, and drew about a dozen more yards from the open winder.
“That ought to do it,” he said. “I’ll give the line a twist round that thole-pin, and then we shall hear it rattle if there’s a bite and—here—hi! Bless my soul!”
Whizz!whoop!bang!
The thole-pin had darted overboard, the winder was snatched from Lynton’s hand and struck violently against the steersman’s leg.
Then both he and the mate made a dart at it to stop it, but came heavily in contact as they stooped. The tiller flew wide, and the boat careened over so dangerously that, if the man who held the sheet had not hastily let go so that the sail went flying, the mate would have gone over the side, and would soon have been left behind, as the boat was now going along at a considerable speed.
It was only a matter of a moment or two, and then the tiller was steadied, the sheet hauled home, and the boat glided swiftly on once more.
“I say,” cried Briscoe, as Dan sat grinning with delight, “what’s it all about?”
“About?” cried Lynton angrily; “why, my bait was taken by either a shark or an alligator. There’s a hundred yards of new line gone. What’s to be done now?”
“You’d better rig up another, I should say,” said the American drily, “and hold on and give out when the fish runs.”
“It’s a rum un,” muttered the mate. “I say, my lad, just keep your head out of my way next time. Are you aware that it’s just about as hard as a cocoanut?”
“Never mind, Lynton,” cried Brace. “Get out another line as soon as you can, while the fish are biting so freely.”
“I don’t know about that. The old man will kick up a row about that line being lost. It was his, and he’ll want to know how it came about that I lost it.”
“Never mind: we brought plenty with us. Look sharp.”
Chapter Twenty One.A River Monster.The boat’s way was checked, and every eye was now fixed upon the second mate as he prepared and threw out another artificial bait. At the same moment the sail was allowed to fill, and the boat glided on once more.“They don’t get this line,” said Lynton confidently, “for I’ll hold it all the time. Let her go, Dan: take a pull on that sheet.”The boat answered to the drag as if she had been a spirited horse resenting a touch at the curb rein, and away they went, with the water surging up towards the gunwale as she careened over.They had sailed on for a few minutes when a loud cry came from the mate.“Ahoy there! Oh, murder!” he yelled. “Throw her up in the wind, or I shall have my arms dragged out of their sockets.”For just when least expected there was a tremendous jerk as some fish or reptile snatched at the flying bait, and Lynton was scarcely able to keep his hold of the line.“Let him run,” cried Brace. “Give him plenty of line.”For the moment the mate was too much taken by surprise to act, but, recovering himself while one of the men snatched up and loosened more line from the winder, he let out yard after yard of the stout cord, and, the boat’s way being checked, it became possible to do something in the way of playing the seizer of the bait.“It pulls like a whale,” panted the mate, as he endeavoured to control the line.“Never mind,” said Briscoe; “give him time, and you’ll tire him out.”“If he don’t tire me out. I say, it’s a monster. It must be a big ’gator.”“Never mind what it is,” cried Brace excitedly: “catch him.”“It’s all very fine to talk,” growled the mate, “but he’ll have the skin off my hands if I stick to him, for it seems as if instead of me catching him he’s caught me, and I expect he’ll have me in the water soon.”Briscoe, who was as excited as anyone, burst into a hearty laugh at this, and, laying down his gun, took up the short-handled gaff-hook which lay beneath the thwarts.“That won’t be any good for this fellow,” cried Lynton; “it’s a great shark, I believe. Take the boathook.”“No, no; it’s too blunt,” said Brace. “Look here, Lynton: you go on playing him.”“Play! Do you call this play? My arms are being racked.”“He must be getting exhausted now. He can’t keep on at that very much longer.”“Well, if he doesn’t soon give way, I shall have to do so.”“Wait a minute or two and then get the brute to the surface, and I’ll put a charge of big shot through him.”“No, no; he’ll break away if you do that,” cried the mate. “I want to get him aboard if I can manage it. I say: the tackle isn’t too big and coarse, is it, Mr Brace?”“I didn’t expect you were going to hook a thing like this at the first attempt. Give him some more line.”“There’s on’y ’bout a fathom more of it left, sir,” cried the man who was casting the line off from the winder.“Let out half and then get a hold too, my lad,” said Lynton.“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the man.“This is rather too much of a good thing,” said the mate. “Here, let the boat go with him; it’ll ease the strain.”“Why, he has been towing us for the last five minutes,” said Briscoe.“Hi! hullo!” cried Brace. “Oh, what luck! Gone!”The men groaned, for the line, which had up till then been quite tense and kept on cutting through the water as the prisoner darted here and there in its wild efforts to escape, suddenly became slack, and, with an angry ejaculation, Lynton began to haul slowly in.“I knew it; I knew it,” he said: “that tackle wasn’t half strong enough.”“But what bad luck!” cried Brace. “Never mind. Stick on another hook, Lynton. I say, that must have been an alligator. There couldn’t be fish that size out here.”“Pulled like a sea-cow,” said Briscoe.“Cow! Went through the water like a steam launch,” said Lynton.“Well, whatever it was, it has gone now, and we must hope for better luck next time,” said Brace.They rested for a few minutes in silence; then Lynton turned to Brace and said:“Just put your hand in the locker over there, Mr Brace, and get out the largest spoon you can find. I’m afraid it won’t be big enough, and I expect this beggar has got the swivels. I say, though, this is something like fishing. When we get back I’ll rig up some tackle with the lead-line. Let the boat go again.”The sail was allowed to fill, the boat careened over and began to glide away again before the wind, when suddenly the line tightened once more, and the mate yelled to the steersman and the sailor holding the sheet.“Ease her!” he roared; “the beggar only turned and came towards the boat. I’ve got him still, and he’s as lively as ever.”There was silence then, and for the next few minutes the battle went on, the fish or reptile towing the boat this way and that way in some of its fierce rushes.In spite of the hard work Lynton manfully refused to surrender the line, but let it run or hauled it in according to the necessities of the moment, till there was a cheer, started by Brace, for the captive’s strength was plainly failing, and at the end of another five minutes it ceased its struggles, and yielded sullenly to the steady drag.Lynton pulled the line slowly in, whilst all the others watched with eager expectation for the first appearance of his captive.“It must be a monster,” said Brace hoarsely. “Be careful now, Lynton. It would be horrible if the line were to break, and we were to lose him after all our efforts.”“Monster? I believe he’s as long as the boat; but he’s pumped out now. I say, the water must be tremendously deep here. He must have dived right down to the bottom. It’s a ’gator: there’s no doubt about that.”“We shall soon see,” replied Briscoe, who stood ready with the gaff-hook. “I shall have to trust to this.”“Yes. Drive it right into his throat, and haul him in over the side at once.”“Right. I say: he’s coming now. See him?” said Briscoe eagerly.“Quite plainly,” said Brace. “The water’s beautifully clear, but it’s running so fast that everything below seems to be all of a quiver and it is not possible to make out the shape of anything.”“Haul slowly and steadily,” said Briscoe. “I wish this thing had a stronger handle.”“It would only break if it had, with such a big fish,” said Lynton, as he kept on hauling and letting the heavily-strained line fall between his legs. “Do you see him now?”“Yes, quite plainly.”“’Gator, isn’t it?”“No: a long, thin fish.”“Not a snake?”“No, no: a fish. It looks five feet long at the least.”“Must be ten,” panted Lynton, with a groan, as he continued hauling on the line. “It feels as heavy as so much lead.”“Now then, be careful,” cried Brace, cocking his double gun.“No, no: don’t shoot,” cried Lynton, as he slowly hauled.“Shan’t fire unless he breaks away,” said Brace between his teeth.In the exciting moments which followed, and amidst a deep silence, only broken by the flapping of the sail and the rattle of the water against the boat’s bows, Briscoe gently passed the gaff-hook over the side, thrust it down into the water, and waited till the fish should come within reach.It only took four hand-over-hand hauls on the part of the mate, and those who gazed excitedly on could plainly see a huge head, with gaping jaws full of glistening teeth, upon its side as if completely spent, offering its white throat to the sharp hook waiting to be driven in.Another steady draw, and the fish did not move a fin. Then one bold firm snatch, and the hook was holding well in the flesh, and in another moment Briscoe, as he threw himself back on to a thwart, would have had the fish over the side and in the bottom of the boat.But at the first touch of the steel the monster curved itself round till its tail touched its head, and then, with a mighty effort, went off like a spring released by a trigger; there was a tremendous splash, deluging everyone with water, and the fish leaped a couple of yards off the hook, to descend with another splash.As it divided the water,bang, bang, two sharp reports rang out from Brace’s gun, one charge tearing through the back of the fish, which beat the surface for a few moments and then dived down, discolouring the clear water with blood.In another few seconds the stream was alive with fish of all sizes, making the river boil as they gathered up every scrap, and greedily drank in the blood, while it was evident that the wounded monster was being savagely attacked and devoured alive by an ever-increasing shoal.“Look: just look!” cried Lynton.The words were unnecessary, for everyone’s eyes seemed to be starting with the use that was being made of them.Almost as Lynton spoke the whirling water was broken by the great fish springing right out, followed by at least a score of pursuers, apparently half its size and less, ready to dash at it as it struck the water again and disappeared.“Seems to have gone this time,” said the American quietly.“Yes, and taken another spoon-bait and hook belonging to the captain,” said the second mate ruefully, as he looked at the broken end of the line he held in his hand.“Yes, and he nearly took the gaff-hook as well,” said Briscoe.“I say, Mr Briscoe, why didn’t you hold him? You had him fast.”“Why didn’t you hold him with the line?” said the American drily.“Can’t you see? It broke.” And Lynton held out the end.“And can’t you see? What sort of hook do you call this?”As he spoke Briscoe held out the gaff, which was nearly straightened out.“I guess,” he continued, “that you people ought to make this sort of tools of hard steel and not of soft iron.”They examined the hook, and even though it was made of soft iron the strength exerted to straighten it out as had been done must have been enormous.“Well, anyhow, our fish has gone,” said Lynton ruefully.“And if we’re not going to have any better luck than this,” said Brace, laughing, “the cook will not have much use for his frying-pan. There, let’s run up to the falls, and perhaps we may do something with our guns.”“Just so,” said Briscoe; “only mind how you shoot, for if anything should happen to fall into the water, the fish’ll have it before we know where we are. This seems to me,” he added drily, “rather a fishy place.”
The boat’s way was checked, and every eye was now fixed upon the second mate as he prepared and threw out another artificial bait. At the same moment the sail was allowed to fill, and the boat glided on once more.
“They don’t get this line,” said Lynton confidently, “for I’ll hold it all the time. Let her go, Dan: take a pull on that sheet.”
The boat answered to the drag as if she had been a spirited horse resenting a touch at the curb rein, and away they went, with the water surging up towards the gunwale as she careened over.
They had sailed on for a few minutes when a loud cry came from the mate.
“Ahoy there! Oh, murder!” he yelled. “Throw her up in the wind, or I shall have my arms dragged out of their sockets.”
For just when least expected there was a tremendous jerk as some fish or reptile snatched at the flying bait, and Lynton was scarcely able to keep his hold of the line.
“Let him run,” cried Brace. “Give him plenty of line.”
For the moment the mate was too much taken by surprise to act, but, recovering himself while one of the men snatched up and loosened more line from the winder, he let out yard after yard of the stout cord, and, the boat’s way being checked, it became possible to do something in the way of playing the seizer of the bait.
“It pulls like a whale,” panted the mate, as he endeavoured to control the line.
“Never mind,” said Briscoe; “give him time, and you’ll tire him out.”
“If he don’t tire me out. I say, it’s a monster. It must be a big ’gator.”
“Never mind what it is,” cried Brace excitedly: “catch him.”
“It’s all very fine to talk,” growled the mate, “but he’ll have the skin off my hands if I stick to him, for it seems as if instead of me catching him he’s caught me, and I expect he’ll have me in the water soon.”
Briscoe, who was as excited as anyone, burst into a hearty laugh at this, and, laying down his gun, took up the short-handled gaff-hook which lay beneath the thwarts.
“That won’t be any good for this fellow,” cried Lynton; “it’s a great shark, I believe. Take the boathook.”
“No, no; it’s too blunt,” said Brace. “Look here, Lynton: you go on playing him.”
“Play! Do you call this play? My arms are being racked.”
“He must be getting exhausted now. He can’t keep on at that very much longer.”
“Well, if he doesn’t soon give way, I shall have to do so.”
“Wait a minute or two and then get the brute to the surface, and I’ll put a charge of big shot through him.”
“No, no; he’ll break away if you do that,” cried the mate. “I want to get him aboard if I can manage it. I say: the tackle isn’t too big and coarse, is it, Mr Brace?”
“I didn’t expect you were going to hook a thing like this at the first attempt. Give him some more line.”
“There’s on’y ’bout a fathom more of it left, sir,” cried the man who was casting the line off from the winder.
“Let out half and then get a hold too, my lad,” said Lynton.
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the man.
“This is rather too much of a good thing,” said the mate. “Here, let the boat go with him; it’ll ease the strain.”
“Why, he has been towing us for the last five minutes,” said Briscoe.
“Hi! hullo!” cried Brace. “Oh, what luck! Gone!”
The men groaned, for the line, which had up till then been quite tense and kept on cutting through the water as the prisoner darted here and there in its wild efforts to escape, suddenly became slack, and, with an angry ejaculation, Lynton began to haul slowly in.
“I knew it; I knew it,” he said: “that tackle wasn’t half strong enough.”
“But what bad luck!” cried Brace. “Never mind. Stick on another hook, Lynton. I say, that must have been an alligator. There couldn’t be fish that size out here.”
“Pulled like a sea-cow,” said Briscoe.
“Cow! Went through the water like a steam launch,” said Lynton.
“Well, whatever it was, it has gone now, and we must hope for better luck next time,” said Brace.
They rested for a few minutes in silence; then Lynton turned to Brace and said:
“Just put your hand in the locker over there, Mr Brace, and get out the largest spoon you can find. I’m afraid it won’t be big enough, and I expect this beggar has got the swivels. I say, though, this is something like fishing. When we get back I’ll rig up some tackle with the lead-line. Let the boat go again.”
The sail was allowed to fill, the boat careened over and began to glide away again before the wind, when suddenly the line tightened once more, and the mate yelled to the steersman and the sailor holding the sheet.
“Ease her!” he roared; “the beggar only turned and came towards the boat. I’ve got him still, and he’s as lively as ever.”
There was silence then, and for the next few minutes the battle went on, the fish or reptile towing the boat this way and that way in some of its fierce rushes.
In spite of the hard work Lynton manfully refused to surrender the line, but let it run or hauled it in according to the necessities of the moment, till there was a cheer, started by Brace, for the captive’s strength was plainly failing, and at the end of another five minutes it ceased its struggles, and yielded sullenly to the steady drag.
Lynton pulled the line slowly in, whilst all the others watched with eager expectation for the first appearance of his captive.
“It must be a monster,” said Brace hoarsely. “Be careful now, Lynton. It would be horrible if the line were to break, and we were to lose him after all our efforts.”
“Monster? I believe he’s as long as the boat; but he’s pumped out now. I say, the water must be tremendously deep here. He must have dived right down to the bottom. It’s a ’gator: there’s no doubt about that.”
“We shall soon see,” replied Briscoe, who stood ready with the gaff-hook. “I shall have to trust to this.”
“Yes. Drive it right into his throat, and haul him in over the side at once.”
“Right. I say: he’s coming now. See him?” said Briscoe eagerly.
“Quite plainly,” said Brace. “The water’s beautifully clear, but it’s running so fast that everything below seems to be all of a quiver and it is not possible to make out the shape of anything.”
“Haul slowly and steadily,” said Briscoe. “I wish this thing had a stronger handle.”
“It would only break if it had, with such a big fish,” said Lynton, as he kept on hauling and letting the heavily-strained line fall between his legs. “Do you see him now?”
“Yes, quite plainly.”
“’Gator, isn’t it?”
“No: a long, thin fish.”
“Not a snake?”
“No, no: a fish. It looks five feet long at the least.”
“Must be ten,” panted Lynton, with a groan, as he continued hauling on the line. “It feels as heavy as so much lead.”
“Now then, be careful,” cried Brace, cocking his double gun.
“No, no: don’t shoot,” cried Lynton, as he slowly hauled.
“Shan’t fire unless he breaks away,” said Brace between his teeth.
In the exciting moments which followed, and amidst a deep silence, only broken by the flapping of the sail and the rattle of the water against the boat’s bows, Briscoe gently passed the gaff-hook over the side, thrust it down into the water, and waited till the fish should come within reach.
It only took four hand-over-hand hauls on the part of the mate, and those who gazed excitedly on could plainly see a huge head, with gaping jaws full of glistening teeth, upon its side as if completely spent, offering its white throat to the sharp hook waiting to be driven in.
Another steady draw, and the fish did not move a fin. Then one bold firm snatch, and the hook was holding well in the flesh, and in another moment Briscoe, as he threw himself back on to a thwart, would have had the fish over the side and in the bottom of the boat.
But at the first touch of the steel the monster curved itself round till its tail touched its head, and then, with a mighty effort, went off like a spring released by a trigger; there was a tremendous splash, deluging everyone with water, and the fish leaped a couple of yards off the hook, to descend with another splash.
As it divided the water,bang, bang, two sharp reports rang out from Brace’s gun, one charge tearing through the back of the fish, which beat the surface for a few moments and then dived down, discolouring the clear water with blood.
In another few seconds the stream was alive with fish of all sizes, making the river boil as they gathered up every scrap, and greedily drank in the blood, while it was evident that the wounded monster was being savagely attacked and devoured alive by an ever-increasing shoal.
“Look: just look!” cried Lynton.
The words were unnecessary, for everyone’s eyes seemed to be starting with the use that was being made of them.
Almost as Lynton spoke the whirling water was broken by the great fish springing right out, followed by at least a score of pursuers, apparently half its size and less, ready to dash at it as it struck the water again and disappeared.
“Seems to have gone this time,” said the American quietly.
“Yes, and taken another spoon-bait and hook belonging to the captain,” said the second mate ruefully, as he looked at the broken end of the line he held in his hand.
“Yes, and he nearly took the gaff-hook as well,” said Briscoe.
“I say, Mr Briscoe, why didn’t you hold him? You had him fast.”
“Why didn’t you hold him with the line?” said the American drily.
“Can’t you see? It broke.” And Lynton held out the end.
“And can’t you see? What sort of hook do you call this?”
As he spoke Briscoe held out the gaff, which was nearly straightened out.
“I guess,” he continued, “that you people ought to make this sort of tools of hard steel and not of soft iron.”
They examined the hook, and even though it was made of soft iron the strength exerted to straighten it out as had been done must have been enormous.
“Well, anyhow, our fish has gone,” said Lynton ruefully.
“And if we’re not going to have any better luck than this,” said Brace, laughing, “the cook will not have much use for his frying-pan. There, let’s run up to the falls, and perhaps we may do something with our guns.”
“Just so,” said Briscoe; “only mind how you shoot, for if anything should happen to fall into the water, the fish’ll have it before we know where we are. This seems to me,” he added drily, “rather a fishy place.”
Chapter Twenty Two.Towards the Falls.The fishing-line was laid to dry, the sail was bellied out, and the boat ran swiftly on again before the brisk breeze.Lynton, who now steered, kept the little vessel close in shore so that a good view might be had of the beauties of the lovely surrounding country, for here tree and shrub had room to grow and assume their natural shape without being deformed by crowding neighbours or strangled by the twining monsters struggling upward so as to be able to expand their blossoms in the full sunshine.In a short distance, though, the forest grew thicker, and the great trees crowded down closer to the water’s edge.Brace and his naturalist companion had withdrawn their gaze from the silvery sheen of the descending fall a mile ahead, to gloat over the beautifully-coloured birds, insects, and flowers which revelled in myriads in the light, heat, and moisture of the glorious bank of the stream.Fresh beauties rose to the view at every glide of the boat, and Brace felt that what they ought to do was to check its way and stop to drink in the glories of the scene.Chance after chance offered itself, but neither of the gun-bearers felt disposed to shoot, and their pieces rested in the hollows of their arms till suddenly, as they passed round a point, they came upon a scene in a nook some fifty yards away which made each seize and cock his weapon.There, right down by the edge of the water, squatted a curious and most uncouth-looking form totally unclothed save by its natural hairy growth, and apparently quite unconscious of their approach as it bent over and lapped the water it raised in its shaggy hand.But the clicking of the gun-locks aroused it to its danger, and, springing upright, it stood peering at them for some moments from beneath a pair of great hairy overhanging brows, before giving vent to a hoarse, long-continued yell.The result of this was soon perceived, for three more such figures suddenly bounded from amongst a clump of bushes and made for the dense forest close at hand.The first seen stretched itself up a little higher for the moment, until it looked like a big savage man, and it stood still glaring at the strangers fiercely and displaying its teeth.Directly afterwards it uttered another deep-toned yell, and its human aspect was gone, for it went down on all-fours and seemed to turn itself into a rear-guard for the other three till they disappeared amongst the undergrowth.The first seen then again raised itself to gaze over the bushes at the boat, and, after uttering a hoarse half-bark, half-human cry, it plunged in after the rest and was gone.“Here, why didn’t one of you have a shot?” cried Lynton.“What at?” said Brace quietly.“Those monkeys. It was an old man and his wife and two youngsters. Why didn’t you fire? You had a good chance.”“That was why I didn’t fire at them. I didn’t want to hit the old man nor his wife nor youngsters. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”“That’s just how I felt,” said Briscoe. “Hang me if I could make out whether it was a wild man or an ape.”“It’s my opinion that it was the former,” said Brace, gazing back at the little embayment they had just passed.The next few minutes were passed in silence which was at length broken by Brace.“Look, there he is again,” he said; “he’s watching us from behind those bushes. Couldn’t be a wild man, though, could it?”“Of course not,” said Lynton: “whoever saw a wild Indian go off on all-fours? It was a great monkey.”“But there are no great monkeys in this part of the world,” said Brace. “One has to go to West Africa and Borneo for them. What do you say, Mr Briscoe?”“The naturalists all say that there are no big apes in South America; but some travellers tell a different tale, and the Indians report that there are great half-human creatures that they are afraid of roaming about in the woods.”“I suppose that must mean that there are some species of apes on this continent, but that no specimens have been captured,” said Brace.“I’m going to make a note of what we’ve seen to-day,” said Briscoe, “for that chap was as big as an orang-outang, and quite as ugly.”“Yes,” said Brace. “It looks as if we had made a discovery. I don’t see why there shouldn’t be big ones in these vast forests.”“Nor I,” said Briscoe thoughtfully. “There’s plenty of room, and people are too ready to say that nothing more remains to be discovered. Why, only the other day they wouldn’t believe in the existence of the gorilla.”“Look here,” said Brace; “don’t you think we ought to go back and endeavour to catch one of those young ones?”“Perhaps,” said the American drily; “but it will mean a fight, and we should have to kill the old one first.”“Do you think he would make a fight of it?” asked Brace.“I am certain of it,” said Briscoe. “Suppose we put it off for a day or two and think about it. There is plenty of time, and we are certain to get another chance.”“Go on, then,” said Brace. “Let’s prospect up to the falls, cross over, and try on the other side for the ducks and fish we have got to take back for the cook.”Lynton chuckled and sent the boat gliding swiftly along for the next few minutes, opening out again and again lovely vistas of river, forest, and verdant shore, all of which invited landing and promised endless collecting excursions. But the present was looked upon as a tour of inspection, and all eyes scanned the shore and every creek that was passed in search of Indians, a lively recollection of the first boat expedition begetting plenty of caution.And all the while they sailed on and on towards the grand falls, which rapidly grew in size as they were approached, the water thundering down and the face of the cataract being obscured by the cloud of mist which rose slowly till it was wafted away to fade in the glorious sunshine.
The fishing-line was laid to dry, the sail was bellied out, and the boat ran swiftly on again before the brisk breeze.
Lynton, who now steered, kept the little vessel close in shore so that a good view might be had of the beauties of the lovely surrounding country, for here tree and shrub had room to grow and assume their natural shape without being deformed by crowding neighbours or strangled by the twining monsters struggling upward so as to be able to expand their blossoms in the full sunshine.
In a short distance, though, the forest grew thicker, and the great trees crowded down closer to the water’s edge.
Brace and his naturalist companion had withdrawn their gaze from the silvery sheen of the descending fall a mile ahead, to gloat over the beautifully-coloured birds, insects, and flowers which revelled in myriads in the light, heat, and moisture of the glorious bank of the stream.
Fresh beauties rose to the view at every glide of the boat, and Brace felt that what they ought to do was to check its way and stop to drink in the glories of the scene.
Chance after chance offered itself, but neither of the gun-bearers felt disposed to shoot, and their pieces rested in the hollows of their arms till suddenly, as they passed round a point, they came upon a scene in a nook some fifty yards away which made each seize and cock his weapon.
There, right down by the edge of the water, squatted a curious and most uncouth-looking form totally unclothed save by its natural hairy growth, and apparently quite unconscious of their approach as it bent over and lapped the water it raised in its shaggy hand.
But the clicking of the gun-locks aroused it to its danger, and, springing upright, it stood peering at them for some moments from beneath a pair of great hairy overhanging brows, before giving vent to a hoarse, long-continued yell.
The result of this was soon perceived, for three more such figures suddenly bounded from amongst a clump of bushes and made for the dense forest close at hand.
The first seen stretched itself up a little higher for the moment, until it looked like a big savage man, and it stood still glaring at the strangers fiercely and displaying its teeth.
Directly afterwards it uttered another deep-toned yell, and its human aspect was gone, for it went down on all-fours and seemed to turn itself into a rear-guard for the other three till they disappeared amongst the undergrowth.
The first seen then again raised itself to gaze over the bushes at the boat, and, after uttering a hoarse half-bark, half-human cry, it plunged in after the rest and was gone.
“Here, why didn’t one of you have a shot?” cried Lynton.
“What at?” said Brace quietly.
“Those monkeys. It was an old man and his wife and two youngsters. Why didn’t you fire? You had a good chance.”
“That was why I didn’t fire at them. I didn’t want to hit the old man nor his wife nor youngsters. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“That’s just how I felt,” said Briscoe. “Hang me if I could make out whether it was a wild man or an ape.”
“It’s my opinion that it was the former,” said Brace, gazing back at the little embayment they had just passed.
The next few minutes were passed in silence which was at length broken by Brace.
“Look, there he is again,” he said; “he’s watching us from behind those bushes. Couldn’t be a wild man, though, could it?”
“Of course not,” said Lynton: “whoever saw a wild Indian go off on all-fours? It was a great monkey.”
“But there are no great monkeys in this part of the world,” said Brace. “One has to go to West Africa and Borneo for them. What do you say, Mr Briscoe?”
“The naturalists all say that there are no big apes in South America; but some travellers tell a different tale, and the Indians report that there are great half-human creatures that they are afraid of roaming about in the woods.”
“I suppose that must mean that there are some species of apes on this continent, but that no specimens have been captured,” said Brace.
“I’m going to make a note of what we’ve seen to-day,” said Briscoe, “for that chap was as big as an orang-outang, and quite as ugly.”
“Yes,” said Brace. “It looks as if we had made a discovery. I don’t see why there shouldn’t be big ones in these vast forests.”
“Nor I,” said Briscoe thoughtfully. “There’s plenty of room, and people are too ready to say that nothing more remains to be discovered. Why, only the other day they wouldn’t believe in the existence of the gorilla.”
“Look here,” said Brace; “don’t you think we ought to go back and endeavour to catch one of those young ones?”
“Perhaps,” said the American drily; “but it will mean a fight, and we should have to kill the old one first.”
“Do you think he would make a fight of it?” asked Brace.
“I am certain of it,” said Briscoe. “Suppose we put it off for a day or two and think about it. There is plenty of time, and we are certain to get another chance.”
“Go on, then,” said Brace. “Let’s prospect up to the falls, cross over, and try on the other side for the ducks and fish we have got to take back for the cook.”
Lynton chuckled and sent the boat gliding swiftly along for the next few minutes, opening out again and again lovely vistas of river, forest, and verdant shore, all of which invited landing and promised endless collecting excursions. But the present was looked upon as a tour of inspection, and all eyes scanned the shore and every creek that was passed in search of Indians, a lively recollection of the first boat expedition begetting plenty of caution.
And all the while they sailed on and on towards the grand falls, which rapidly grew in size as they were approached, the water thundering down and the face of the cataract being obscured by the cloud of mist which rose slowly till it was wafted away to fade in the glorious sunshine.
Chapter Twenty Three.A Great Danger.So rapt were all the party in the awe-inspiring scene and in the beauty of the falls—which were broken up by island-like rocks peering out grey and green right across, so that as the adventurers drew nearer it was to gaze at the beauties of at least a dozen falls instead of one, as they had expected—that they did not notice how the wind was dropping as they advanced, nor yet the change that had taken place in the river current.It was Brace who first marked the alteration whilst he was noticing the numbers of fish leaping and darting away in front of the boat as she glided on.“We ought almost to stop and fish here,” observed Briscoe. “We might have better luck with a smaller bait.”“Perhaps we had better try,” said Brace; “but I say, Mr Lynton, look here: what do you make of this?”“Make of what?” said the mate.“We are not sailing nearly so fast as we were a short time ago.”“Oh, I don’t know: we’re making much about the same way.”“But the boat does not rush through the water as she did.”“That’s right,” said Briscoe. “A bit ago she nearly dipped gunwale under several times.”“I noticed that,” said Brace, “and that’s the reason I called attention to the smooth way we are now progressing. There’s just the same amount of wind blowing.”“Yes; I say, Lynton, this isn’t right,” said Briscoe, in a sharp tone of voice.“What isn’t right?” said the mate testily. “We’re making splendid way. The boat’s sailing along beautifully.”“Yes, too beautifully,” said Briscoe. “Can’t you see what Mr Brace here means?”“No; I can’t see anything wrong,” answered Lynton, in a grumbling tone.“Look then,” cried Brace, excitedly now; “you had better put her about at once and make for the other side.”“What for?”“Can’t you see?” cried Brace. “We were sailing against the stream a bit ago; but we’re sailing with it now.”“Nonsense; that can’t be,” said the mate contemptuously.“But we are,” cried Brace warmly. “Look and see.”“Yes, that’s right enough, sir,” cried Dan sharply. “The current’s setting dead for the falls, and we’re being sucked sharply towards the broken water underneath them.”“Ay, true for you, mate,” cried one of the sailors; “and if we get there we shall be swamped before we know where we are.”Lynton started up in the boat and stood in a stooping position holding on by the gunwale with his unoccupied hand, as he peered over the side to look at the direction of the current and then gazed up the river at the falls.The others saw him change countenance, but he did not say a word. He gave ample proof, though, that he fully realised the danger they were incurring, for he bore hard down upon the tiller till the boat glided round, the sail filled on the other side, and they began to sail slowly in a direction parallel with the falls.“She don’t make much way, sir,” said Dan, in a grumbling tone hardly above a whisper, the words being meant for Brace’s ear, but the mate evidently heard what was said.“I don’t quite understand this,” said he. “I never noticed any change, but the current’s setting now right for the falls.”“Don’t you see why that is?” Briscoe asked the question sharply.“No. Do you?”“Yes. I’m a bit used to cataracts. There’s thousands of tons falling yonder and going down ever so deep. That makes the surface water set towards the falls, and while there’s a deep current rushing down the river there’s a surface current now setting upward, and it’ll take us right up to the falling water as sure as we sit here if something isn’t done, and that quickly.”“I don’t quite see that,” said Lynton obstinately, as if he did not like being taught by the American.“Never mind about understanding it,” said Briscoe sharply. “We’ll work it out afterwards. You must act now.”“I am acting,” said Lynton. “We’re sailing right away.”“But the current’s taking us up, Lynton,” said Brace quickly.“Well, I can’t set more sail, nor make any more wind, can I? We seem to be getting more into shelter here.”“But you can order the men to get out the oars,” cried Brace.“Or else drop the grapnel and try to come to an anchor,” said Briscoe.“Ah, yes,” cried Lynton; “we’d better do that. Perhaps the wind will rise a bit more soon. Over with that grapnel, my lads,” he shouted to the men forward.The sailors had been listening to every word, and quick as thought the little four-fluked boat anchor was tossed over the bows, and the line ran out to the extreme limit.Brace watched anxiously for the iron to catch in the bottom and check their way. But he looked in vain.“That’s no good,” said the American sharply. “Bound to say you’d want a rope ten times as long as that one up here, and if you had it no gimcrack of a grapnel like that would take hold of the smooth rock bottom.”“Well, what else can I do? We seem to be helpless,” said Lynton.Briscoe replied, in a most determined voice:“Order out the oars, sir, if you don’t want the boat to be swamped and your bones to be picked by these fiends of fish.”The men did not wait for orders from their officer, but seized the oars, and the next minute they were pulling with a long, steady, vigorous stroke in the direction the mate steered; but from where Brace sat aft he could see that they were still gliding gradually upward.It was only too plain to him that this was the case, for he could mark their position by fixing his eyes upon a rock on the farther shore and see that they were first abreast of it and soon after leaving it behind them.“We’ve got our work cut out here, Mr Lynton,” said the American sternly. “I should change course again, sir, and make a tack in the other direction.” Then, turning to the sailors, he said:“Stick to your oars, my lads, and pull a steady stroke. No flurry. Be cool.”“Look here, sir: are you in command of this boat or am I?” cried the second mate, losing his temper in his excitement.“Neither of us, I reckon,” said the American coolly. “Strikes me no human being is in command of her now. She’s going where the current takes her.”“Well, I don’t want you interfering and giving orders to the men,” answered the mate.“Suppose we take our orders from Mr Brace here.” Briscoe turned to Brace. “What do you say, sir—do you think my advice is good?”“Yes, Lynton, it is good,” said Brace firmly. “Do as Mr Briscoe says.”“All right, sir; I’ll take my orders from you as I would from your brother; but I’m not going to be hustled about over my work by a Yankee who came aboard as a stowaway.”“That will do, Mr Lynton,” said Brace haughtily. “I’d be willing to take my orders from any man if I felt that they were right, as I know these are, and you do too if you will only be a little reasonable and think.”“I don’t want any thinking, sir,” said Lynton frankly. “Yes, it’s right enough. Pull, my lads, a good steady stroke, one that you can keep up for a month. Swing that sail over. That’s right. Now we’re off on the other tack.”He spoke out quite cheerily now, and handled the tiller so that the boat glided off in the opposite direction to that in which she had been sailing, and for the next half-hour they tacked and tacked about, sailing as close as they could to the wind, which was blowing gently right for the falls.Their course was a series of tacks, which, if they were represented on paper, would be marked as a zigzag, and had the breeze been fresher the sailing qualities of the boat would have enabled her to easily master the current which was steadily carrying them towards the falls.But instead of freshening, the wind, which was making the leaves quiver ashore, seemed to be growing fainter and fainter as they came nearer to the thundering falls, for it was plain enough that in spite of all their efforts the current was the stronger, and that it was only a question of time before the pulling of the men would become weaker and the boat would be drawn right on and on into the churned-up foaming water, and then—
So rapt were all the party in the awe-inspiring scene and in the beauty of the falls—which were broken up by island-like rocks peering out grey and green right across, so that as the adventurers drew nearer it was to gaze at the beauties of at least a dozen falls instead of one, as they had expected—that they did not notice how the wind was dropping as they advanced, nor yet the change that had taken place in the river current.
It was Brace who first marked the alteration whilst he was noticing the numbers of fish leaping and darting away in front of the boat as she glided on.
“We ought almost to stop and fish here,” observed Briscoe. “We might have better luck with a smaller bait.”
“Perhaps we had better try,” said Brace; “but I say, Mr Lynton, look here: what do you make of this?”
“Make of what?” said the mate.
“We are not sailing nearly so fast as we were a short time ago.”
“Oh, I don’t know: we’re making much about the same way.”
“But the boat does not rush through the water as she did.”
“That’s right,” said Briscoe. “A bit ago she nearly dipped gunwale under several times.”
“I noticed that,” said Brace, “and that’s the reason I called attention to the smooth way we are now progressing. There’s just the same amount of wind blowing.”
“Yes; I say, Lynton, this isn’t right,” said Briscoe, in a sharp tone of voice.
“What isn’t right?” said the mate testily. “We’re making splendid way. The boat’s sailing along beautifully.”
“Yes, too beautifully,” said Briscoe. “Can’t you see what Mr Brace here means?”
“No; I can’t see anything wrong,” answered Lynton, in a grumbling tone.
“Look then,” cried Brace, excitedly now; “you had better put her about at once and make for the other side.”
“What for?”
“Can’t you see?” cried Brace. “We were sailing against the stream a bit ago; but we’re sailing with it now.”
“Nonsense; that can’t be,” said the mate contemptuously.
“But we are,” cried Brace warmly. “Look and see.”
“Yes, that’s right enough, sir,” cried Dan sharply. “The current’s setting dead for the falls, and we’re being sucked sharply towards the broken water underneath them.”
“Ay, true for you, mate,” cried one of the sailors; “and if we get there we shall be swamped before we know where we are.”
Lynton started up in the boat and stood in a stooping position holding on by the gunwale with his unoccupied hand, as he peered over the side to look at the direction of the current and then gazed up the river at the falls.
The others saw him change countenance, but he did not say a word. He gave ample proof, though, that he fully realised the danger they were incurring, for he bore hard down upon the tiller till the boat glided round, the sail filled on the other side, and they began to sail slowly in a direction parallel with the falls.
“She don’t make much way, sir,” said Dan, in a grumbling tone hardly above a whisper, the words being meant for Brace’s ear, but the mate evidently heard what was said.
“I don’t quite understand this,” said he. “I never noticed any change, but the current’s setting now right for the falls.”
“Don’t you see why that is?” Briscoe asked the question sharply.
“No. Do you?”
“Yes. I’m a bit used to cataracts. There’s thousands of tons falling yonder and going down ever so deep. That makes the surface water set towards the falls, and while there’s a deep current rushing down the river there’s a surface current now setting upward, and it’ll take us right up to the falling water as sure as we sit here if something isn’t done, and that quickly.”
“I don’t quite see that,” said Lynton obstinately, as if he did not like being taught by the American.
“Never mind about understanding it,” said Briscoe sharply. “We’ll work it out afterwards. You must act now.”
“I am acting,” said Lynton. “We’re sailing right away.”
“But the current’s taking us up, Lynton,” said Brace quickly.
“Well, I can’t set more sail, nor make any more wind, can I? We seem to be getting more into shelter here.”
“But you can order the men to get out the oars,” cried Brace.
“Or else drop the grapnel and try to come to an anchor,” said Briscoe.
“Ah, yes,” cried Lynton; “we’d better do that. Perhaps the wind will rise a bit more soon. Over with that grapnel, my lads,” he shouted to the men forward.
The sailors had been listening to every word, and quick as thought the little four-fluked boat anchor was tossed over the bows, and the line ran out to the extreme limit.
Brace watched anxiously for the iron to catch in the bottom and check their way. But he looked in vain.
“That’s no good,” said the American sharply. “Bound to say you’d want a rope ten times as long as that one up here, and if you had it no gimcrack of a grapnel like that would take hold of the smooth rock bottom.”
“Well, what else can I do? We seem to be helpless,” said Lynton.
Briscoe replied, in a most determined voice:
“Order out the oars, sir, if you don’t want the boat to be swamped and your bones to be picked by these fiends of fish.”
The men did not wait for orders from their officer, but seized the oars, and the next minute they were pulling with a long, steady, vigorous stroke in the direction the mate steered; but from where Brace sat aft he could see that they were still gliding gradually upward.
It was only too plain to him that this was the case, for he could mark their position by fixing his eyes upon a rock on the farther shore and see that they were first abreast of it and soon after leaving it behind them.
“We’ve got our work cut out here, Mr Lynton,” said the American sternly. “I should change course again, sir, and make a tack in the other direction.” Then, turning to the sailors, he said:
“Stick to your oars, my lads, and pull a steady stroke. No flurry. Be cool.”
“Look here, sir: are you in command of this boat or am I?” cried the second mate, losing his temper in his excitement.
“Neither of us, I reckon,” said the American coolly. “Strikes me no human being is in command of her now. She’s going where the current takes her.”
“Well, I don’t want you interfering and giving orders to the men,” answered the mate.
“Suppose we take our orders from Mr Brace here.” Briscoe turned to Brace. “What do you say, sir—do you think my advice is good?”
“Yes, Lynton, it is good,” said Brace firmly. “Do as Mr Briscoe says.”
“All right, sir; I’ll take my orders from you as I would from your brother; but I’m not going to be hustled about over my work by a Yankee who came aboard as a stowaway.”
“That will do, Mr Lynton,” said Brace haughtily. “I’d be willing to take my orders from any man if I felt that they were right, as I know these are, and you do too if you will only be a little reasonable and think.”
“I don’t want any thinking, sir,” said Lynton frankly. “Yes, it’s right enough. Pull, my lads, a good steady stroke, one that you can keep up for a month. Swing that sail over. That’s right. Now we’re off on the other tack.”
He spoke out quite cheerily now, and handled the tiller so that the boat glided off in the opposite direction to that in which she had been sailing, and for the next half-hour they tacked and tacked about, sailing as close as they could to the wind, which was blowing gently right for the falls.
Their course was a series of tacks, which, if they were represented on paper, would be marked as a zigzag, and had the breeze been fresher the sailing qualities of the boat would have enabled her to easily master the current which was steadily carrying them towards the falls.
But instead of freshening, the wind, which was making the leaves quiver ashore, seemed to be growing fainter and fainter as they came nearer to the thundering falls, for it was plain enough that in spite of all their efforts the current was the stronger, and that it was only a question of time before the pulling of the men would become weaker and the boat would be drawn right on and on into the churned-up foaming water, and then—
Chapter Twenty Four.Staring at Death.It was too horrible to think of, and Brace, to keep out of his brain the mental picture of the swamped boat, the thundering water beating them down into the awful chaos, and the shudder-engendering ideas connected with the fierce fish waiting to attack and literally devour them alive, changed his position so as to kneel down in the bottom of the boat, facing the second oarsman, lay his hands upon the oar, and help every pull with a good push. Briscoe followed his example, and the strength of six was thus brought to bear upon the oars.For a few minutes this extra effort seemed to have supplied all that was necessary, and as the men saw that they were beginning to draw a little away from the falling water they burst out simultaneously with a hearty hurrah, one that seemed to give fresh energy to the rowers. But it sounded feeble, hushed, and smothered as it were by the increasing roar of the falling water, ever growing into an overpowering, muffled thunder.Still there was the fact that wind and muscle were stronger than the current, and the boat was steadily drawing away as they advanced in their tack towards the farther shore.On the strength of this and to save losing ground in turning to go upon the next tack, Lynton kept on, and shouted an encouraging word or two from time to time.“Bravo! All together! Now you have it! Well rowed, boys! Put your backs into it! You’ll fetch it! British muscle and British pluck for ever! Never say die, lads! That’s your style! Keep it up! Well done, Mr Brace! Well done, Mr Briscoe! Well done all! Ah–h–h!”This last sounded like a snarl from the mate—it was uttered fiercely, and was long-drawn-out and savage in the extreme.But he felt that he had made a mistake, and he now roared:“Go on—go on! Don’t stop to look round you. Keep on rowing for your lives, lads, and we’ll do it yet!”He was just in time, for the men’s efforts had begun to slacken and something of a panic was setting in amongst them.Everyone grasped the fact that the long reach they were now making had been a terrible error. It had brought them closer in than ever to the high mass of rocks over which the upper portion of the river was precipitated.Somehow from the configuration of the country this high ground affected the course of the wind, or else it had suddenly dropped, for to the horror of the rowers the sail, which had fairly bellied out, began to collapse, and a minute later hung flapping against the mast, doing nothing to help the progress of the boat out of the peril in which she lay.“Pull!” roared the mate. “Pull for your lives, my lads!”He sprang forward, and, just retaining his hold upon the tiller with one hand, he planted his foot against the bow man’s oar and kept giving a thrust in time with each stroke.Brace’s first idea was that they ought to tack at once, but he grasped the fact directly after that there was not time, for in the attempt to achieve the manoeuvre the boat would lose so much way that they would be swept irredeemably closer towards the falls; and he went on thrusting with all his might, knowing full well that the mate was right, and that their only chance was to row on parallel with the falls till they could reach the farther shore.“Pull for your lives!” were the last words the mate shouted, and they were but faintly heard in the heavy roar, and the men pulled as they had never pulled before.They pulled till the rough ashen oars bent and threatened to snap in two, and as Brace kept on with his regular swing and thrust his position was rendered more horrible by his being face to face with the men and forced to see their starting eyes, their strained faces, and the glint of their white set teeth, as they dragged at their oars when bidden, each man for his dear life.But it was all in vain, and they knew it. They felt to a man that all was over. Even now they could not get their full grip of the water, for it was becoming foam charged and white with the vesicles of air rushing to the surface. But they pulled in the true Anglo-Saxon spirit, for life, of course, but with the desperate intent of pulling to the last, not to escape, but to die game.And how soon?Brace did not once turn his head to the right so as to see—there was no need to do so, for he was conscious of the ever-nearing presence of a glassy descending sheet dimly seen through a dense cloud of mist, which glittered and flashed, and as it rose, rolling over and over like the smoke from a slow fire, it emitted colours of the most brilliant hues—glorious refulgent colours, reflections of the sunshine, while with ever-increasing force there came that dull awful roar.There was an appeal too now to other senses, for a dull moist watery odour rose to the lad’s nostrils, and at times it suggested fish, and he shuddered slightly at the thought of how soon he might be beaten down and swept within the reach of the keen-toothed creatures.He thought all this and more in those brief seconds, for his brain was working quickly, independently of his muscles, which never for a moment flagged in the effort to help the rowers.How long first?He knew there would be no fishes close up to the falls, for nothing could swim in such an air-charged mass of water, and nothing would risk itself where it would be beaten down and hurled and whirled against the rocks upon which the waters fell and eddied and played around.Brace knew and felt that so soon as the boat was sucked a little nearer there would be a sudden glide right up to the falling water, and then in an instant they would be beaten down into the darkness right to the bottom, and then go rushing along at a terrible rate, to begin rising a little and a little more till they reached the surface half a mile or more away from where they went down, afterwards to float gently along past where the brig was anchored—No; he felt that they would never reach the surface again; for, as soon as the rush of the water allowed, the great river would be teeming with shoals of ravenous enemies, and the friends left on board the brig would never learn the cause of the non-return of the boat’s crew.All this and more passed through his brain in those frightful minutes as the men tugged hard at the oars, and they kept on parallel with the great descending sheet of water.Now and then, as if divided by a puff of air which did not reach them, the rolling mist opened and displayed piled-up natural piers of rock, towering above their heads and dividing the curtain of gleaming descending waters; but for the most part the falls were hidden from them by an impenetrable veil, and at last they were upon the outskirts of this mist as they rowed on.At first Brace believed that his eyesight was dimming, and he shuddered, for the faces of his fellow-sufferers appeared to him to be strangely distorted and indistinct; but he grasped the reason, and knew now that in a few minutes more they would pass on to their death.But no one else seemed to be affected by the surroundings. To a man, with fixed staring eyes and set teeth, the sailors dragged at their oars, waiting till their officer at the tiller should bid them cease, while his face seemed to have become set to a stony solidity which never changed, for Lynton was ready to meet the worst and, determined to help till the water beat them down, he breathed hard and thrust in the regular seaman’s swing.Suddenly Brace felt more than saw that the yard above them swung slightly, and no doubt creaked; but no sound save the deafening roar of the waters could reach to his ear, and he just glanced upward, to feel for the moment that the canvas darkened their position, and it seemed to him that the time had come, for the sail was like one of the wings of death beating over them, and a curious feeling of resignation made him calm.He had not felt anything like fear during the last few minutes: he was only aware in a rapt dreamy way that something was about to happen—that something which was the end of everything on earth: and he felt sorry for his brother, who would take it terribly to heart that he did not return. But, directly after, his brain was intent upon the efforts he was making to help the rower in front.Then the mist became very thick around them, and as the boat was gliding faster and still faster through the water the already moistened sail seemed to be struck a violent blow which nearly capsized the boat, as she heeled over to port and did not recover.“We’re going down,” thought Brace, and he closed his eyes and threw back his head till his face was towards the sky, but only to resume his old position, for he awoke to the fact that the men seemed to be making a last desperate attempt to get out of the rushing water.And now, as he unclosed his eyes, it was to find himself in the clear sunshine with the boat dashing at headlong speed through the water, her port gunwale only an inch or two from the surface and the wet sail bellied out in a dangerous way, while Dan was holding on by the sheet.The roar of the water was stunning, but the sudden change in the state of affairs seemed to stun him far more, till it gradually dawned upon him that they had rowed on in their desperation till the boat had passed into a current of air, one caused by the wind striking against and being reflected from the rocks at one side of the falls, and by whose help they were gliding so rapidly into safer waters that the men suddenly ceased rowing, while Lynton uttered a yell.“Look, look!” he shouted. “Do you see? Do you see?”“See? How?” panted Briscoe. “I am nearly blind with staring at death.”“Yes, yes, but look, look! Mr Brace—the water, the water! We have got into an eddy, and it is setting right away from the falls.”Brace turned round and saw that Lynton’s words were true. He sat staring at the water until he was recalled to a sense of what was passing around him by hearing Lynton’s voice.“Oh, catch hold, sir; catch hold of this tiller and steer. Let her go—fast as she will—so as to get away from this horrid place. Quick! quick! I can’t bear it! I’m going mad!”Brace snatched at the tiller, and only just in time, for Lynton’s grasp upon it gave out, and with a lurch forward he fell upon his face, which was, however, saved from injury, for he had clasped his hands upon it, and now lay in the bottom of the boat, hysterically sobbing with emotion like a girl.
It was too horrible to think of, and Brace, to keep out of his brain the mental picture of the swamped boat, the thundering water beating them down into the awful chaos, and the shudder-engendering ideas connected with the fierce fish waiting to attack and literally devour them alive, changed his position so as to kneel down in the bottom of the boat, facing the second oarsman, lay his hands upon the oar, and help every pull with a good push. Briscoe followed his example, and the strength of six was thus brought to bear upon the oars.
For a few minutes this extra effort seemed to have supplied all that was necessary, and as the men saw that they were beginning to draw a little away from the falling water they burst out simultaneously with a hearty hurrah, one that seemed to give fresh energy to the rowers. But it sounded feeble, hushed, and smothered as it were by the increasing roar of the falling water, ever growing into an overpowering, muffled thunder.
Still there was the fact that wind and muscle were stronger than the current, and the boat was steadily drawing away as they advanced in their tack towards the farther shore.
On the strength of this and to save losing ground in turning to go upon the next tack, Lynton kept on, and shouted an encouraging word or two from time to time.
“Bravo! All together! Now you have it! Well rowed, boys! Put your backs into it! You’ll fetch it! British muscle and British pluck for ever! Never say die, lads! That’s your style! Keep it up! Well done, Mr Brace! Well done, Mr Briscoe! Well done all! Ah–h–h!”
This last sounded like a snarl from the mate—it was uttered fiercely, and was long-drawn-out and savage in the extreme.
But he felt that he had made a mistake, and he now roared:
“Go on—go on! Don’t stop to look round you. Keep on rowing for your lives, lads, and we’ll do it yet!”
He was just in time, for the men’s efforts had begun to slacken and something of a panic was setting in amongst them.
Everyone grasped the fact that the long reach they were now making had been a terrible error. It had brought them closer in than ever to the high mass of rocks over which the upper portion of the river was precipitated.
Somehow from the configuration of the country this high ground affected the course of the wind, or else it had suddenly dropped, for to the horror of the rowers the sail, which had fairly bellied out, began to collapse, and a minute later hung flapping against the mast, doing nothing to help the progress of the boat out of the peril in which she lay.
“Pull!” roared the mate. “Pull for your lives, my lads!”
He sprang forward, and, just retaining his hold upon the tiller with one hand, he planted his foot against the bow man’s oar and kept giving a thrust in time with each stroke.
Brace’s first idea was that they ought to tack at once, but he grasped the fact directly after that there was not time, for in the attempt to achieve the manoeuvre the boat would lose so much way that they would be swept irredeemably closer towards the falls; and he went on thrusting with all his might, knowing full well that the mate was right, and that their only chance was to row on parallel with the falls till they could reach the farther shore.
“Pull for your lives!” were the last words the mate shouted, and they were but faintly heard in the heavy roar, and the men pulled as they had never pulled before.
They pulled till the rough ashen oars bent and threatened to snap in two, and as Brace kept on with his regular swing and thrust his position was rendered more horrible by his being face to face with the men and forced to see their starting eyes, their strained faces, and the glint of their white set teeth, as they dragged at their oars when bidden, each man for his dear life.
But it was all in vain, and they knew it. They felt to a man that all was over. Even now they could not get their full grip of the water, for it was becoming foam charged and white with the vesicles of air rushing to the surface. But they pulled in the true Anglo-Saxon spirit, for life, of course, but with the desperate intent of pulling to the last, not to escape, but to die game.
And how soon?
Brace did not once turn his head to the right so as to see—there was no need to do so, for he was conscious of the ever-nearing presence of a glassy descending sheet dimly seen through a dense cloud of mist, which glittered and flashed, and as it rose, rolling over and over like the smoke from a slow fire, it emitted colours of the most brilliant hues—glorious refulgent colours, reflections of the sunshine, while with ever-increasing force there came that dull awful roar.
There was an appeal too now to other senses, for a dull moist watery odour rose to the lad’s nostrils, and at times it suggested fish, and he shuddered slightly at the thought of how soon he might be beaten down and swept within the reach of the keen-toothed creatures.
He thought all this and more in those brief seconds, for his brain was working quickly, independently of his muscles, which never for a moment flagged in the effort to help the rowers.
How long first?
He knew there would be no fishes close up to the falls, for nothing could swim in such an air-charged mass of water, and nothing would risk itself where it would be beaten down and hurled and whirled against the rocks upon which the waters fell and eddied and played around.
Brace knew and felt that so soon as the boat was sucked a little nearer there would be a sudden glide right up to the falling water, and then in an instant they would be beaten down into the darkness right to the bottom, and then go rushing along at a terrible rate, to begin rising a little and a little more till they reached the surface half a mile or more away from where they went down, afterwards to float gently along past where the brig was anchored—
No; he felt that they would never reach the surface again; for, as soon as the rush of the water allowed, the great river would be teeming with shoals of ravenous enemies, and the friends left on board the brig would never learn the cause of the non-return of the boat’s crew.
All this and more passed through his brain in those frightful minutes as the men tugged hard at the oars, and they kept on parallel with the great descending sheet of water.
Now and then, as if divided by a puff of air which did not reach them, the rolling mist opened and displayed piled-up natural piers of rock, towering above their heads and dividing the curtain of gleaming descending waters; but for the most part the falls were hidden from them by an impenetrable veil, and at last they were upon the outskirts of this mist as they rowed on.
At first Brace believed that his eyesight was dimming, and he shuddered, for the faces of his fellow-sufferers appeared to him to be strangely distorted and indistinct; but he grasped the reason, and knew now that in a few minutes more they would pass on to their death.
But no one else seemed to be affected by the surroundings. To a man, with fixed staring eyes and set teeth, the sailors dragged at their oars, waiting till their officer at the tiller should bid them cease, while his face seemed to have become set to a stony solidity which never changed, for Lynton was ready to meet the worst and, determined to help till the water beat them down, he breathed hard and thrust in the regular seaman’s swing.
Suddenly Brace felt more than saw that the yard above them swung slightly, and no doubt creaked; but no sound save the deafening roar of the waters could reach to his ear, and he just glanced upward, to feel for the moment that the canvas darkened their position, and it seemed to him that the time had come, for the sail was like one of the wings of death beating over them, and a curious feeling of resignation made him calm.
He had not felt anything like fear during the last few minutes: he was only aware in a rapt dreamy way that something was about to happen—that something which was the end of everything on earth: and he felt sorry for his brother, who would take it terribly to heart that he did not return. But, directly after, his brain was intent upon the efforts he was making to help the rower in front.
Then the mist became very thick around them, and as the boat was gliding faster and still faster through the water the already moistened sail seemed to be struck a violent blow which nearly capsized the boat, as she heeled over to port and did not recover.
“We’re going down,” thought Brace, and he closed his eyes and threw back his head till his face was towards the sky, but only to resume his old position, for he awoke to the fact that the men seemed to be making a last desperate attempt to get out of the rushing water.
And now, as he unclosed his eyes, it was to find himself in the clear sunshine with the boat dashing at headlong speed through the water, her port gunwale only an inch or two from the surface and the wet sail bellied out in a dangerous way, while Dan was holding on by the sheet.
The roar of the water was stunning, but the sudden change in the state of affairs seemed to stun him far more, till it gradually dawned upon him that they had rowed on in their desperation till the boat had passed into a current of air, one caused by the wind striking against and being reflected from the rocks at one side of the falls, and by whose help they were gliding so rapidly into safer waters that the men suddenly ceased rowing, while Lynton uttered a yell.
“Look, look!” he shouted. “Do you see? Do you see?”
“See? How?” panted Briscoe. “I am nearly blind with staring at death.”
“Yes, yes, but look, look! Mr Brace—the water, the water! We have got into an eddy, and it is setting right away from the falls.”
Brace turned round and saw that Lynton’s words were true. He sat staring at the water until he was recalled to a sense of what was passing around him by hearing Lynton’s voice.
“Oh, catch hold, sir; catch hold of this tiller and steer. Let her go—fast as she will—so as to get away from this horrid place. Quick! quick! I can’t bear it! I’m going mad!”
Brace snatched at the tiller, and only just in time, for Lynton’s grasp upon it gave out, and with a lurch forward he fell upon his face, which was, however, saved from injury, for he had clasped his hands upon it, and now lay in the bottom of the boat, hysterically sobbing with emotion like a girl.