Just before the skiff came to the shore, and it seemed as if nothing could save them, there was a sharp turn in the current. Instantly George drove one oar deep into the water, and putting forth all his strength, brought the skiff aright, and then it dashed forward down the stream.
There was a grating sound as the boat touched a rock that came close up to the surface, but as the boys, with still paler faces, glanced over the sides to look at the bottom, they were swept onward, and in a moment the peril was passed.
Soon the waters were calmer, and though running swiftly, were not so boisterous, and the tossing waves were all behind them. As Jock glanced back it seemed to him that they had come down a hill of water; but before him the river apparently had resumed its peaceful aspect, and the danger had been passed.
“That was a close call,” said Jock, with a sigh of relief. “When we struck that rock I thought we were done for. Weren’t you frightened, George?”
“No.”
“But what would have happened if it had made a hole in the boat?”
“We’d have sunk.”
“We could have swum with the current, I think,” said Bob.
“No, you couldn’t,” said George. “You’d have been sucked under in a minute.”
“Whew!” whistled Bob. “I’m glad we’ve been through the Longue Seaut, but I don’t believe I care to do it again.”