"Give me your hand, Mont," continued Jack, in a loud voice, seeing that his friend could not secure a good hold.
But before the young man could comply the tree turned over, and both were immersed.
In another instant, the willow, for such it was, had reached the brink. Here it hesitated for a moment, and then with a sharp sound it dove over the madly boiling mass into the maelstrom below!
The noise was terrific. Jack held on, closing his eyes, and forgetting everything.
He felt himself go down, down--and still further. The water rang in his ears, and many colors flickered in his mind's eye. The pressure from above was tremendous.
Ten seconds passed. He felt his senses leaving him. Mont's body bumped against him, and unconsciously he threw his own body partly around that of his friend.
Then all became a dim, dark uncertainty. The willow did not remain under the falls long. The rush of water soon forced it out into the stream below, and once there, it shot along, bearing upon its topmost branches two human bodies.
It drifted in mid-stream, gradually diminishing its speed, until an island stopped its further progress.
It struck upon a sandy shore, and the upper end swung gently around, catching fast in some overhanging bushes.
The bright sun shone down upon the scene as tranquilly as ever. Its warm rays apparently revived Jack, for, with a deep shudder--like one awakening from a horrible dream--the young machinist opened his eyes and endeavored to take in the situation.