"That's good. We'll weather this yet. Hang on to my coat, and we'll keep together!"
Being expert swimmers, there was little cause for fear so long as the current passed clear of obstacles, and the men had little to do but keep a suitable position, for the force of the water bore them well on the surface. But the chief danger was from undercurrents and whirlpools, and as the boundaries of the river rapidly narrowed this risk became more serious every moment.
As they rushed onwards, so the two walls of the cañon came nearer—shutting out the light until the scene resembled the gloomy depths of a seething cauldron.
Closer and closer came the walls; swifter and swifter rushed the water.
Now the limits were so narrow that the river was but a smooth riband darting between walls worn glassy by the wear of countless ages.
The friends came so close that they touched one another's shoulders.
That was one moment.
The next instant each felt himself shot forward through a narrow opening like a cork that is volleyed from a bottle; and when the men came to realise their position, they found themselves floating on the surface of a placid lake into which the cañon poured its flood.
They looked at one another. The adventure had parted them, but Arnold laughingly held up a portion of Holden's coat as a banner to signal his position.
"Our same old luck!" exclaimed Holden, laughing.