On they went for a hundred yards, between rocks standing up higher than their heads. Then the brink of the waterfall was gained and here the tree seemed to pause for a moment. Over it went, carrying the boys with it, over and down, out of the sunlight into utter darkness.
By instinct more than reason both boys clung fast to the tree and that was their salvation. Down they went into the pool and the torrent of water came on top of them, sending them far beneath the surface. How long they remained under they could not tell, afterward, but it seemed an age. When they came up each was more dead than alive. But still they clung to the tree as it drifted away and lodged among the rocks a short distance further down the river.
“Frank, are you all right?” Mark asked the question, feebly, some ten minutes later.
“I—I guess so,” was the gasped out answer. “But, oh, Mark, wasn’t it an awful tumble?”
“That’s what it was, Frank. I didn’t think we’d come out of it alive.”
They left the tree and sat down on the rocks, and there rested for over an hour. The noise of the waterfall still thundered in their ears, but otherwise all was silent.
At last Mark arose and stretched himself. “If we are all right we may as well go on again,” he said.
“On the tree?”
“Yes. I don’t think there is any danger of another waterfall—at least not close by. We can watch the water and if the current gets too swift we can turn into shore before the tree gets beyond our control again.”
So it was agreed, and soon they were on the way once more. Below the falls the river was narrow for several miles but the current was not very swift, for much of the water was carried off by side streams flowing in various directions.