“Stream!” growled Shaddy, seizing an oar and rowing with all his might just as they were being swept rapidly down the lower river, the trees gliding by them and the men appearing to have no power whatever to check the boat’s way as it glided on faster and faster, leaving the open lake the next minute quite out of sight.
Chapter Sixteen.
In a Tropic Storm.
Rob and Joe looked at each other quite aghast as the boat was literally snatched away out of the boatmen’s control and went tearing down the river. For, beside the alteration in their plans, there was the fire waiting, all glowing embers, that would cook to perfection; there were wild fruits which the two lads had noted from the boat; and there was the puma, whose society Rob felt a strong desire to cultivate.
Then, too, there was something startling in being suddenly robbed of all power to act and being swept at a headlong speed along a rapid, for aught they knew, toward some terrible waterfall, over which they would be hurled. So that it was with no little satisfaction that they saw Shaddy seize the boat-hook and, after urging the crew to do their best to pull the boat toward the trees, stand up in the bows and wait his turn.
The crew worked hard, and kept the boat’s head up stream, and by degrees they contrived to get it closer to the side, while Shaddy made three attempts to catch hold of a branch. In each case the bough snapped off, but at the fourth try the bough bent and held, though so great was the shock that when the hook caught, the strong-armed man was nearly drawn over the bows into the river, and would have been but for one of the boatmen’s help.
It was a sharp tussle for a few moments, and then two of the men caught hold of hanging branches as the boat swung within reach. The next minute a rope was passed round a branch, and the boat was safely moored.
“Mind looking to see whether I’ve got any arms, Mr Rob?” said Shaddy. “Feels as if they were both jerked out of their sockets.”