The captain and the sailor tried the canoe. All that skill, strength, or courage could do they did. But scarcely were they in the current, when they capsized and narrowly escaped with their lives. The boat was drawn into the eddies and disappeared. Captain Mangles and Wilson had not advanced ten yards into the river, which was swollen by the rains and melting snows till it was now a mile in breadth.
Two days were wasted in this way. The major and Glenarvan went five miles up stream without finding a practicable ford. Everywhere was the same impetuosity, the same tumultuous rush of water; all the southern slopes of the mountains had poured their liquid torrents into this single stream. They were forced, therefore, to give up any hope of saving the Duncan. Five days had passed since Ben Joyce's departure, the yacht was probably that very moment at the coast, in the hands of the convicts.
However, this state of things could not last long. Indeed, on the morning of the third day, Paganel perceived that the waters were beginning to subside. He reported to Glenarvan the result of his observations.
"What does it matter now?" replied Glenarvan; "it is too late!"
"That is no reason for prolonging our stay at the encampment," replied the major.
"Certainly not," said Captain Mangles; "to-morrow, perhaps, it will be possible to cross."
"But will that save my unfortunate crew?" cried Glenarvan.
"Listen to me, my lord," continued Captain Mangles. "I know Tom Austin. He was to execute your orders, and start as soon as his departure was possible. Who knows whether the Duncan was ready, or her injuries repaired, on the arrival of Ben Joyce at Melbourne? Supposing the yacht could not put to sea, and suffered one or two days of delay?"
"You are right, John," replied Glenarvan. "We must reach Twofold Bay. We are only thirty-five miles from Delegete."
"Yes," said Paganel, "and in that town we shall find rapid means of conveyance. Who knows whether we shall not arrive in time to prevent this calamity?"