The White Crystals: Being an Account of the Adventures of Two Boys

by Howard Roger Garis

"If I don't, it won't be the first time, for me," added Adrian, as though to prepare for the worst.

They tramped for half a mile more, and then, turning down a well-beaten path, Adrian led the way to an opening amid a grove of willow trees, along the edge of the creek. The stream, which was broad and deep here, curved around from a point, and formed an eddy that had eaten quite a distance into the bank. This eddy was used as a swimming hole by the boys of the village, but now the water was a little too cool for that sport, so the fish were not disturbed in what Adrian knew was one of their favorite haunts.

It did not take long to rig the lines on the poles, bait the hooks, and cast in. Though Roger never had much chance to go fishing in the city, the necessity of keeping quiet was apparent to him, and he moved about as slowly and as easily as he could, standing in a place Adrian had pointed out. Then he softly dropped the hook, with the wiggling, dangling worm, into the water. Adrian did likewise, and then the boys began to exercise that patience which all good fishermen are supposed to be blessed with.

Roger felt a little tired from the tramp, and, after he had stood for several minutes, he ventured to sit down on a piece of drift-wood that was on the edge of the bank. Adrian, not feeling the strain of walking, preferred to stand. It was very quiet along the edge of the creek, screened as it was by the fringe of willows. Now and then a late-staying bird, that had not yet flown south, darted in and out among the trees. The dried cornstalks rustled in the wind, and there was a pleasant smell in the air. Altogether it was a most delightful place to fish.

"I've got a bite," whispered Adrian, suddenly, and Roger noticed his cousin's line trembling and shaking just where it entered the water. "Watch me pull him out," went on Adrian softly.

The next instant he yanked his pole high in the air, and, dangling on the end of the line, twisting and flopping so that its silvery sides reflected the sun, was a good-sized fish. Roger leaped to his feet to see the catch, which his cousin landed on the ground with a thud. He started back to where the prize lay on the grassy bank, and then he felt something give way beneath him. He seemed to be falling down, and in desperation he clutched wildly at the air. He heard Adrian shouting, as though he was miles away, and the next he knew the waters of the creek closed above his head. A part of the bank where he had been sitting had broken off, and carried him into the stream with a splash of the deep water.

Roger thought he would never stop sinking down and down into the pool, and, though at this point it was only about ten feet deep, the boy imagined it must be three times that. He had kept hold of the pole when he fell, and he dimly knew that his hands still grasped it as he tried to strike out and spring to the surface. It was black as night all around him, and the waters roared and sang in his ears.

For a half minute Adrian was so frightened by his cousin's disappearance he did not know what to do. He felt sure Roger would be drowned, and, already, he was charging himself with the responsibility for it.

Then a determination to save him came into the boy's mind. With a quick motion he peeled off his coat, cast aside his cap, and, with his knife, rapidly slit the laces of his shoes, as the easiest and most expeditious way of undoing them. He kicked the leathers from him, leaped to the edge of the bank, and was about to dive into the water when he saw Roger's head bob up.

"Don't be afraid!" called Adrian. "I'll save you!"