Fire in the Woods / Illustrated

by James De Mille

“But can we now?” asked Phil, uneasily.

“Sure an why not?”

“The tide—it’s so strong.”

“Sure an that’s nothin,” said Pat. “All we’ve got to do is to head the boat up strame, half up an half across, an we’ll slide over that way in spite of the tide, so we will.”

Pat’s confident tone reassured Phil, and as Pat set off quickly to the boat, he followed without a word of further objection. Under the impression that there was now not a moment’s time to lose, they pushed the boat off; and seizing the oars, they began pulling with all their strength, Pat taking the stroke oar, and striving to head her in that mysterious direction which he had described a short time ago. For a few minutes they exerted all their strength; and both boys, as they pulled, kept turning their heads, so as to see the shore, which they wished to gain. Those few minutes served to put a considerable distance between them and the island which they had left. But the interval was not exactly the kind which they wished to see between them and it. It was evident that their progress forward was not very great, but that at the same time their progress down the stream was fearfully rapid. And that stream was setting full towards the Falls.

Phil noticed this first, and his cry aroused Pat, who was still too much interested in watching his destination to regard his actual situation. But that situation, as the two boys looked around upon it, was calculated to administer a shock to the strongest nerves, and quicken the action of the stoutest heart.

The river current was running down at such a rate of speed that their efforts to counteract it while crossing were quite unavailing. Its force had already dragged them down stream about half way between the two islands, while the actual progress which they had made towards their destination was small. Their downward drift had brought them nearer to the Falls, and as they took their hasty look around, they were aware again of that low, sullen roar which they had heard on the island; but now that roar was deeper and nearer, and the low, droning sound of the agitated waters struck more menacingly upon their ears.

At this moment there was still one chance, and one only. That was to head the boat back for the island which they had just left. Had they done so, and rowed for their lives, there was a possibility of emerging yet from the clutch of that hungry current, which grew more and more tenacious as they advanced, and from which escape was only possible by a retreat. But at that moment Pat did not fully realize the danger that impended. He was quite cool, and the mistake that he made arose from an error in judgment, rather than from anything like panic. He had only the idea of resisting the current, and was unable as yet to give up his purpose of returning to the boat’s wharf. So he headed the boat up stream in such a way that their own force should be brought as much as possible against the current, and yet secure to it a slight advance.

They now pulled, as before, in silence, using all their strength. The head of the boat was almost up stream, and as they pulled they could see all that could be seen of the danger below them. For about five minutes they thus struggled, and at the end of that time there began to force itself into the minds of both of them the dread conviction that the strength of the current was too great for their efforts. Pat saw this first, and, seeing this, made a final relinquishment of his efforts to cross, and put the boat’s head straight up stream, so as to make all their efforts tell against the tide itself. But by that time they had brought themselves to where the tide was strongest, and that tide was growing stronger and stronger every minute. This they both saw and felt; and they knew enough of the nature of the Falls to understand now the mistake that they had made. For they had crossed to the islands when the tide was falling, and, in their attempt to return, had been caught by a tide that had been increasing in force ever since they had last crossed it, and was still increasing and directing all its might down towards the Falls.

Their efforts to resist the tide were overpowered. The river was gaining; their strength was failing. One last, faint hope remained—to turn the boat back, to pull towards the islands; it might yet be possible by strenuous effort to drag the boat forth from the clutch of the mighty waters. The lower island was as yet below them, on their left; if they could only bring the boat out of the middle of the stream, they might reach it.