Of a sudden, they felt themselves twisted violently to one side. Then, for once, the majestic volume of Billy Walker’s voice served his necessity. The words bellowed in Saxe’s ear came softly, as from an infinite distance, yet clearly.
“There’s no turn like that—we’re in the chamber. Make to the left—to the ledges, for your life! It’s our only chance.”
By mercy of fate, the eddy helped them on their course. But for that, they could never have won through against the mighty urge of the current. The eddy sent them far to the left, and they fought on with all their strength, when the pull of it would have swung them back toward the vortex. Then as he felt that he could strive no more, Saxe felt his fingers touch on stone. While his hand rasped on the rock for hold, his feet found footing. In the next moment, he realized as never before the great strength of his companion. A violent thrust upward fairly shot him clear of the water. Before he had time to help himself, Billy was again at his side, was dragging him still higher on the tumble of rocks.
“To the top!” boomed the sage. “It may be high enough, and it may not. Anyhow, it’s the only chance.” And, presently, the two were on the summit of the pile of stone. Below them, the writhing waters clamored in rage. But the flood did not reach to them. Each second, Saxe expected to feel the swirl of it about his feet, leaping to engulf him; he was shuddering from dread of it. The quick horror of the event bred cowardice. Then, yet once again, he heard the huge voice of his friend.
“We’re safe—safe!”
But Saxe could not believe him.
“How do you know?” he shouted.
The sage had not heard the feebler tones through the din, but he guessed the question.
“The water just reaches my foot. It has mounted no higher through a full minute.”
“But it may yet.”