He sent the boat ashore, and the boys eagerly watched him as he took a light pole and went out to one of the projecting rocks. There he fished for a few minutes, and after he had secured a half-dozen good-sized “chubs,” he returned to the place on the shore where the boys were waiting for him and said,—
“On and on moved the swift-flying skiff.”
“Get aboard, now. We’ll shoot the rapids, though I haven’t as many of the chubs as I wish I had. It’s too bright and warm a day.”
Both boys could testify to the latter fact, as they resumed their seats on board, Their faces were streaming with perspiration, though as a matter of fact the warm rays of the sun had little to do with that. They could not remove their gaze from that terror-inspiring scene, and as George drew back his sleeves and grasped his oars, they, too, unconsciously grasped the sides of the boat as if they were seeking for some protection.
No one spoke now, and soon the little skiff was caught in the current and began to dart forward with ever-increasing speed. George’s face was set and hard, and he, too, occasionally glanced behind him as if he was striving to get his bearings.
On and on moved the swift-flying skiff, and then, almost before the boys were aware of it, they were caught in the foaming rapids and swept forward with incredible speed. The boatman was not rowing now, only striving, with an occasional use of one oar, to keep the bow of the skiff pointed straight down the river.
A moment later and they were in the midst of the roar, and the swiftly moving skiff increased its speed. Jock was aware of Bob’s white countenance, and somehow felt rather than saw that the trees and rocks along the shore were rushing rapidly past them. He had no thought of time. He was too excited even to feel afraid. The boat was darting madly forward, and almost before he was aware of it they had gained the foot of the island, and there he discovered that the two parts of the rapids came together and the loud roaring became deeper and stronger.
Out into the united channel the frail skiff was swept, and then the current bore them with the speed of a race-horse straight across the river, till it seemed as if nothing could save them from being dashed upon the rocks that lined the opposite shore.
George had not spoken since they had entered the rapids, and, indeed, the roar of the rushing waters would probably have drowned the sound of his voice had he tried to speak aloud to his companions. He was, however, constantly alert, and with an occasional quick strong pull upon one of his oars, kept the boat headed aright.