This time Ralph’s aim was surer and quicker, the dog receiving a sharp cut across the ear from the butt of the rod, and going down at once, to begin howling, and swimming in a circle.
Rid thus of one enemy, the lad proceeded to get rid of the second by a very simple plan. Lowering his left hand, he got hold of the strap which formed the dog’s collar, and in spite of its struggles and worryings, went on as fast as he could go—slowly enough, all the same—to where the water deepened; and as it reached his thigh, he bent his knees, with the natural result that as the dog held tenaciously to its mouthful of cloth and padding, its head was beneath the water.
A few seconds were sufficient to make it quit its hold, and come up choking and barking; but in obedience to the urging on of one of the men, to pluckily renew the attack.
A sharp crack from the butt knocked all the remaining courage out of its head, and it turned, howling, to swim back toward its masters.
“Here, it’s no good, young Darley,” yelled one of the men. “You may give up now. We’ve got you fast.”
“And it’ll be the worst for you, if you don’t. We have got you now.”
“Hold me tight, then,” muttered the lad, with a triumphant feeling at his chances of escape beginning to make him glow.
“You mustn’t go there,” shouted another. “It’s woundy deep, and you’ll get sucked down.”
“Come and be sucked down after me,” muttered Ralph, as the dogs began barking again furiously, but refused to follow and attack, keeping close to the men, who were all now in the river, wading slowly, the walls having grown too precipitous for them to keep on the sides.
Ralph’s progress was slow enough too, for the water had deepened till it was above his waist, and the next minute was nearly to his armpits, while the river having narrowed now to half its width, the stream though deep came faster, and grew harder to stem.