They must have entered upon a section of the river where the cross currents became stronger than ever, for the drifting shanty boat’s progress became more erratic. Several times the boys found themselves flung in a heap by an unheralded stoppage of the boat, or an unusually wild movement sideways.
“Say, this is getting tougher and tougher the further we go, and I must admit I don’t fancy it for a cent!” grumbled Step Hen, after he had picked himself up for the third time and rubbed his knees as though they pained him.
“The worst I ever met up with, suh!” declared Bob White, steadying himself by clutching hold of a hook that was fastened to the wall for some purpose or other.
“Think of me,” groaned Bumpus; “when I come down it’s like a load of brick!”
“Yes, that’s what I say,” added Davy; “’specially to the fellow underneath you, Bumpus. Why don’t you sit down all the time, and save yourself the trouble of falling so much? You nearly crunched me last time.”
“Yes, and it don’t hurt him to fall the same way it does me,” Giraffe wanted the rest to know, “because he’s padded all over like a football player.”
Instead of diminishing, the erratic gyrations of the whirling boat seemed to continually increase, if such a thing were possible. Even Thad became worried, for it was impossible to guess what would happen next. Then again that impenetrable blackness with which they were enveloped on all sides must be anything but reassuring to even the bravest heart. If they could only see out, and prepare for each new and surprising shock, it might not be quite so bad.
Minutes dragged along until they seemed almost like hours to the scouts who, imprisoned in that small cabin, found themselves at the mercy and sport of the flood that was pouring down the Susquehanna. Why, sometimes it seemed to Bumpus he must be living in the time of old Noah, and that this was the ark of refuge, with the forty days of solid rain beating down upon it. Yes, and he could almost fancy that he had some of the animals that were taken in, two by two, around him, judging from the queer attitudes which Davy Jones was striking, for he was on all fours about half the time.
Thad had figured out what they must do in case of a wreck. This was to stand by the boat as long as she remained afloat, and only strike out for the shore in case of a complete collapse. He knew the terrible risk all of them would run if they attempted to swim that swollen stream, without daylight to give them cheer, or show them their bearings; and it was the last thing he wanted to try.
Perhaps nearly half an hour may have elapsed since the boat had struck that sloping shelf of hidden rock, when once again the same experience came upon them.