The tree-bole, which presented a somewhat broad surface, divided the waters, creating a narrow zone of neutral water in its wake. In this eddying area the boat rode securely, making it an easy matter for the bowman to keep her nose up against the tree.
And now each boy bent an upward glance to the fork.
CHAPTER IX
THE RESCUE
"Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods."
TENNYSON'S Ulysses.
Fortunately the she-oak was one of the largest of its kind, and forked out into four branches twenty feet or so from the ground. This formed a rough cage, in which one could be held very securely if not comfortably.
In this fork, partially covered with a blanket, was huddled the form of a human creature, presumably a woman; one hand stretched along the trunk as in a painful grip, the legs hanging loosely. There was no movement of limb or body. What if she were dead?
A sudden chill accompanied this thought. The situation was decidedly uncanny, and bred awesome, not to say fearsome, feelings.
Four boys in a boat! Out on the flood-wastes, and in a particularly perilous position! The insistent noises of the rushing tide; the hollow moan of the wind in the foliage of the she-oaks; shut out from all help; missed now at home, and that thing above!
All these combined to create a creeping chill in each boy, which in a manner half-paralysed them.