Now, all this had taken place in a mere moment of time. It would take no more than that to decide their fate. And this seemed sealed.
For all his hard condition and desperate pluck, Gerard felt strength and nerve alike well-nigh fail him. The native was a fearful weight, heavier even than one of his size ought to be, and he was not a small man. They were now in the roar and swirl of the rapids. Once or twice Gerard’s foot touched ground, only to be swept off again resistlessly, remorselessly. Several times he thought he must relax his grasp and leave the other to his fate. He could see the smooth glitter of the glassy hump where the river curled over the brink; could feel the vibration of the appalling boom on the rocks below. In a second he—both of them—would be crashed down on to those rocks, a thousand shapeless fragments, unless, that is, he could secure a footing upon the spit of stony islet in front.
A yard more will do it. No. The current, split into two, swirls past the obstruction with a perfectly resistless force. He is swept out again as his fingers come within an inch of grasping a projecting stone. Then he—both of them—are whirled over and over in the surging boil of the rapids—the brink is in front—space.
Then it seems to Gerard that he is upholding the weight of the whole world. For a most wonderful thing has happened. The native is perfectly stationary—still as though anchored—in the resistless velocity of the current, and now it seems to be his turn to support his would-be rescuer. For the latter’s legs are actually hanging forth over the fearful abyss, and but for the firm grip—now of both hands—which he has upon the other’s arm, he would be shot out into space. The roar and vibration of the mighty fall is bewildering, maddening—the crash upon the rocks, the spuming mist flying away into countless rainbows before his sight. He seems to live a lifetime in that one fearful moment. He must loose his hold and—
“Here, mister! I’m going to throw you a reim. Can you catch it?”
Gerard hardly dares so much as nod an affirmative. He sees as in a dream a couple of bearded faces on the bank above, the owner of one of which is swinging a long, noosed cord of twisted raw hide.
“All right! Now—catch!”
Swish! The noose flies out, then straightens. It falls on Gerard’s shoulder. Loosening one hand, he quickly passes it round his body. It is hauled taut.
“Now—leave go the nigger. He’s all right. He’s anchored.”
Instinctively Gerard obeys, and swings free. For a second he is hanging on the smooth, glassy, curling lip of the fall. Should the reim break— But it is staunch. He is drawn slowly up against the current, and hauled safely to land.