The roar was overpowering. It seemed as if he were in the appalling swirl of Niagara, with the raging waters all around him clamoring for his life. He grasped a limb which brushed his face, and the next step showed that he had struck higher ground.
But the torrent was ascending faster than he. It was gaining in spite of all he could do, but hope was not yet dead. Another step and the water was below his waist, and he was able to make progress with the help of his hands. When he lifted one foot it was swept to one side, and only by throwing his full weight upon it was he able to sustain himself.
He had now reached a point where the trees were not so near together. While this enabled him to see something of his surroundings, it gave the sweeping volume greater power, and he was in despair again.
But the dim light of the moon showed that at that moment the boundary of the current was only a few paces beyond him. Could he pass that intervening distance before it further expanded he would be safe.
Rousing his flagging energies he fought on, cheered by the view of a figure on the margin, which had evidently caught sight of him.
“A little farther and you will be all right!” shouted the stranger, stepping into the torrent and extending his hand.
“I can’t do it!” moaned McGovern, struggling on, but gaining no faster than the terrible enemy against which he was fighting.
“Yes, you will! don’t give up! take my hand!”
McGovern reached out, but he was short of grasping the friendly help. Then the brave friend stepped into the rushing torrent at the risk of his own life, and, griping the cold hand, exerted himself with the power of desperation, and dragged the helpless youth into the shallow margin.
“Don’t stop!” he shouted, still pulling him forward; “we are not yet out of danger!”