“Why, I thought it would be bigger than this,” said Perry, “from the noise it makes.”
“Bigger than you think, my lad,” said the colonel. “There is an enormous amount of water going by here. I daresay that crack is a hundred feet deep. Look at the speed at which it runs.”
“Yes, it seems to run fast.”
“Seems!” cried the colonel. “Here, give me your hand. Don’t be afraid. Stop a moment; roll up your sleeve above your elbow. That’s it. Set your feet fast, and trust to me.”
The boy obeyed, and after making sure of his own footing, the colonel let his son sink down sidewise till he was nearly horizontal, and could plunge his arm right into the stream above the elbow.
It was a strange sensation for the boy to be sinking lower and lower, gazing in the gloom at that rushing, glassy water, which, as it darted along, carried with it another stream—one of air, which blew his hair about and felt icily-cold, but nothing to compare with the water into which he plunged his arm.
The shock was electric. It was as if he received a blow from a mass of ice which numbed him, and gave his limb a sudden snatch and drag to draw it from the socket.
Perry gave a gasp, and pulled his arm out of the torrent.
“Ugh!” he ejaculated. “It’s freezing.”
“Yes; would you like a plunge in?”