“I am. Don’t you think it would be a mighty smart thing for me to let you go back to your folks, an’ tell ’em what you’ve done seed here to-night? I hain’t quite so green as that. Halloo, there! Stop him, Barney. Jump on your hoss an’ foller him up, an’ ketch him. If he gets away, we are done fur.”
The sudden change in Luke Redman’s tone was brought about by an action on Mark’s part that astonished every body who witnessed it. While the man was speaking he had risen to his feet, and, balancing himself on the sawyer, took a survey of the situation, and calculated his chances for carrying out a desperate resolve he had formed.
As I have told you, there were two currents in the bayou at this particular point—one setting toward the falls and the other toward the cavern. The sawyer was situated near the edge of the latter current, and Mark was sure that a good jump and a few swift strokes would carry him beyond its influence into the comparatively smooth current that ran toward the falls.
He determined to try it, and he did; and to his infinite delight, and the intense amazement of Luke Redman, he reached the smooth current in safety, and struck out for the skiff, intending to catch the valise as he went by and take it away with him.
But the current was much too strong for him. It carried him far out of reach of the skiff, and whirled him over the falls as if he had been a feather. He heard loud ejaculations of rage and alarm behind him, and caught just one glimpse of the Dragoons, who were mounting their horses to pursue him, and then he was swept rapidly around the bend, and they were left out of sight.
How long Mark remained in the water, and how far his enemies pursued him, he did not know. He kept in the bayou until he passed the bluffs and reached a spot where the water once more spread out over the swamp, and there he turned and made the best of his way toward the chain of hills which ran along the bank of the river.
He had ridden over the ground on horseback more than once, but he had never swum over it before, and the distance seemed to have lengthened out wonderfully; but it was safely accomplished at last, and when he crawled out upon the dry ground and turned his face homeward, he told himself that he had done something to be proud of: He had swum over the falls—and that was a feat that no one in the settlement had ever attempted before—and although he had lost his canoe and every one of the wild geese for which he had worked so hard, he had saved his double-barrel, and made a discovery that was worth a great deal to Jerry Lamar.
And his exploits were not yet ended. He was twenty miles from home, and for five long hours he trudged along the road in his wet clothes, facing a blinding storm and splashing through mud more than ankle deep.
I never saw a worse-looking boy than he was when he burst in upon us about ten o’clock, and I do not suppose he ever saw a more astonished family than we were, while we sat listening to the story of his adventures.
In spite of his remonstrances, he was put to bed immediately; while father and I donned our rubber coats and boots, and rode out into the storm to arouse the settlement.