Max recognized, as in a flash, that his fate was in the hands of a greater Power than himself. He snatched up his rifle, and endeavoured to steer with the butt. That had the effect of turning the canoe a little, but the current was too strong, and he was borne onwards.
Twenty yards farther, and the canoe would turn the corner and shoot out into the river, where the rapids foamed and lashed. At one time the bows brushed the tall reeds which were growing from the water. Max, dropping his rifle, seized the only one of these that was within his grasp. He held it for no longer than a second--an agonizing moment that seemed eternity--and then the reed was drawn out by its roots from the soft mud beneath the water.
The canoe was launched into the rapids at a bound. The current struck it sideways, and sent it round like a top. For a moment it was like some blind, excited animal that knows not whither it means to go, and then it shot down-stream like an arrow from the bow.
Max became aware of a kind of singing in his head. This may have been caused by the blow which he had received, or else by the manner in which the canoe was now whirled round and round upon the tide. The whole scene about him became blurred and indistinct. The great, white-hot sky above him was like a sheet of fire. He saw the trees on either bank fly past like armies of dark, gigantic spectres. At such times as this, it is as if the brain becomes unhinged; we think of strange, and often foolish things, of no consequence soever. Max saw a large dragonfly, of all the colours in the rainbow. Even then he admired its beauty and coveted its wings. The latter thought was natural, but the first was strange. And the next thing he knew of was Crouch shouting and waving his arms upon the bank. In a few moments Max had shot down the river to the place where he had left the little captain, though it had taken him more than two hours to force his way to the back-water through the density of the jungle.
"Paddle!" Crouch was crying. "Paddle for your life! Bring her in to the bank."
Just then the canoe was steady, shooting downward like a dart. Max raised his hands to his lips and shouted back.
"I've no paddles!" he cried.
He saw Crouch break into the jungle. The little sea-captain threw himself into the thickets like a madman. Once again, only for an instant, Max caught sight of him. He was fighting his way down-stream along the river bank like some ferocious beast. The long arm of a creeper barred his way, and Crouch wrenched it from the tree to which it clung with a strength that was almost superhuman. And then he was lost to view.
Max looked down into the water, and saw at once that it would be impossible to reach the bank by swimming. He had never been a strong swimmer, and in such a current as this no one could hope to prevail. On hands and knees, he crawled to the other end of the canoe, and immediately the thing swung round again, like a gate upon its hinges.
He was now calm enough to think the matter out. If he tried to swim to the shore the odds would be a hundred to one against him. There was still a chance that the canoe might be driven into the bank. He was determined to keep his head, to be ready to spring ashore, should the opportunity occur, and lay hold upon the first thing that fell to his reach.