But Bart, in spite of the shock of his narrow escape, had not forgotten the object for which he had lowered himself from the rock, and gazing eagerly towards the shallows, he saw that it was just being swept off then into the deep water that rushed round the buttress upon which he stood.
It was the work of moments. Reaching out as far as he could, he just managed to grip the clinging garment of the object sweeping by, and as he grasped it tightly, so great was the power of the water, that he felt a sudden snatch that threatened to tear the prize from his hand. But Bart held on fiercely, and before he could fully comprehend his position he found that he had overbalanced himself, and the next moment he had gone under with a sullen plunge.
Bart was a good swimmer, and though encumbered with his clothes, he felt no fear of reaching the bank somewhere lower down; and, confident in this respect, he looked round as he rose to the surface for the body of him he had tried to save, for as he struck the water he had loosened his hold.
There was just a glimmer of something below the surface, and taking a couple of sturdy strokes, Bart reached it before it sank lower, caught hold, and then guiding his burden, struck out for the shore.
The rocks from which he had come were already a hundred yards above them, the stream sweeping them down with incredible swiftness, and Bart knew that it would be folly to do more than go with it, striving gently the while to guide his course towards some projecting rocks upon the bank. There was the possibility, too, of finding some eddy which might lead him shoreward; and after fighting hard to get a hold upon a piece of smooth stone that promised well, but from which he literally seemed to be plucked by the rushing water, Bart found himself in a deep, still pool, round which he was swept twice, and, to his horror, nearer each time towards the centre, where, with an agonising pang, he felt that he might be sucked down.
Dreading this, he made a desperate effort, and once more reached the very edge of the great, calm, swirling pool just as the bushes on the bank were parted with a loud rush, and the Beaver literally bounded into the water, to render such help that when, faint and exhausted, they all reached a shallow, rocky portion of the stream a quarter of a mile below where Bart had made his plunge, the chief was ready to lift out the object the lad had tried to save, and then hold out his hand and help the lad ashore.
The next minute they were striving all they knew to try and resuscitate him whom Bart had nearly lost his life in trying to save, the interpreter joining them to lend his help; and as they worked, trying the plan adopted by the Indians in such a case, the new-comer told Bart how the accident had occurred.
His words amounted to the statement that while the speaker and the chief had been collecting sticks for a fire to roast a salmon they had speared with a sharp, forked stick, they had seen the Doctor busily rinsing the sand in a shallow pool of the rocks, well out, where the stream ran fast. They had not anticipated danger, and were busy over their preparations, when looking up all at once, they found the Doctor was gone.
Even then they did not think there was anything wrong, believing that while they were busy their leader had gone to some other part among the rocks, till, happening to glance down the stream some minutes later, the Beaver’s quick eyes had caught sight of the bright tin bowl which the Doctor had been using to rinse the sand in his hunt for gold, floating on the surface a hundred yards below, and slowly sailing round and round in an eddy.
This started them in search of the drowning man, with the result that they reached Bart in time to save both.