The “peck of trouble” referred to as their portion by Clay turned out to be a full bushel, and good measure at that, in a very short time. Although the boys turned on the power—a thing they should have done long before—as soon as the crest of water came in sight, the Rambler was pitched down toward the swamp like a chip.
If the boys had been able to direct her course, they might have held her in the current, and so kept out of the muck hole into which she was swept when the water cut around a bend, driving straight on the shore. But just as the craft was getting under control a mass of limbs and cane-brake tangled her propellers, and she went down with the flood, striking, as has been said, in a swamp where the head of the bayou had been, and into which the water still poured.
It was pitch dark out on the river and in the swamp, but the lights of the Rambler cast a circle of illumination about the spot where she lay, so that the black, bubbling water, with all the unclean reptiles it was forcing forth from their haunts, was in full view. It was carrying wreckage now, and this was piling up between the current and the boat, shutting off all chances of backing out, even if the current would have permitted it. It was indeed a desperate situation.
The motor boat had come to a stop against two monster cypress trees, between which she had wedged her nose. Only for this she might have been carried farther into the swamp, the water being deep for some distance ahead.
During the whirling passage down the bayou, while the boat was bumping against tree trunks and bounding off with a jar and a swish to go swinging around again, like a foolish dancer doing the time limit, Mose had clung tightly to one of Clay’s legs. At the very beginning of that mad race he had caught sight of a couple of alligators, and was in deadly fear that they would climb on board and make a meal of him!
When the boat finally lodged between the giant trees, the little negro boy bounded from the deck and, seizing hold of a mass of vines, clambered up the tree to the west like a young monkey! Believing that he would have to help the others up, he carried a rope with him! Finally, sitting astride of a limb, he called down what he considered very good advice to the boys on the boat.
“Dey done get yo’, sho’!” he warned. “Catch on de rope an’ shin up!”
Serious as the situation was, with the water trinkling in over the stern of the motor boat, the boys grinned at each other at the fright of the boy.
“Come on down!” Alex. called. “If the boat should break away from the trees, you would be left alone in the swamp. Come on down and help get the boat out of this blessed swamp! You may get out with your rope and tow her if you want to!” he added, with a chuckle.
“Fo’ de Lawd!” cried Mose, shuddering at the idea of getting into water inhabited by monsters who would leave a fat pig to feast off a black boy!