“Wouldn’t be any good, sir. We’re fast in the sand upon an upright keel, and until the water rises after a storm here we stick.”
“But you talked about throwing over some of the ballast to lighten the vessel if a case like this occurred,” said Brace.
“Yes, squire, that would do perhaps; but what then? Go back?”
“Go back!” cried Brace; “certainly not. We want to go forward.”
“Then you’ll have to go another way,” said the captain decisively, “for the brig has done her work.”
“But you’ll be able to get her off in a short time?”
“I daresay I can, but look yonder at that cloud,” said the captain, and he pointed towards where, faintly seen, a rainbow spanned the river above a rolling white cloud.
“What does that mean, captain—a shower?” Brace asked.
“Yes,” said the captain, “a heavy one, squire, falling over the rocks in hundreds of tons a minute. There’s our limit. That’s a cloud of spray from some grand falls which I daresay run right across the river. I shouldn’t wonder if the country rises now in steps right away to the mountains. If we could get up that fall, maybe we could go on sailing for a hundred miles before we came to another; but it is not possible to get the brig up, and, between ourselves, I think we’ve done wonders to get her up here so far.”
“But suppose we content ourselves with getting so far as this, and, when we have got the brig off, turn her round and go back to the main stream and sail up there?” asked Sir Humphrey.