All along the banks Max could see the quagmire the caravan had avoided.
But the boat sped on so rapidly that nothing definite could be noted.
It seemed the boat was going uphill, but of course that was imagination.
A few yards before them was tall marsh grass growing in the water.
“Our troubles are at an end,” gasped Max, catching his breath, as he spoke.
The boat tossed slightly.
A sudden lurch, and the small dugout, with its three occupants, was precipitated over a cataract, a seething cauldron of hissing, sputtering, bubbling water!
CHAPTER XIV.
THE SUBTERRANEAN RIVER.
The sudden shooting of the cataract, the wild plunge into the water beneath, had taken away their breath, and neither Max nor Ibrahim was able to speak.
Instinctively, the three men caught hold tightly of the sides of the dugout, and it was well that they did so, and maintained their grip like grim death.