Chapter Twenty Three.
From Bad to Worse.
On finding himself in the water as he parted from his companions, Hendrik had not much exertion to make.
A gentle motion of the limbs sustained him on the surface, and he was borne onward with a velocity that promised a speedy termination of his voyage.
Some place must soon be reached where the banks would be low enough to be ascended, and the current not too quick to hinder him from crossing to the shore. He was spirited past several rocks, one of which he only avoided with great difficulty, so swiftly did the current carry him along.
When about a mile from his companions, as he supposed himself, he saw that the banks on both sides were shelving and he tried to reach the shore.
The current was still rapid as ever, and for each foot made in the direction of the land, he was borne several yards down the channel of the stream.
The velocity with which he was moving awoke in his mind a vague sense of a danger not thought of before starting, and altogether different from those that had been taken into calculation. His voyage, so far, had been successful. He had escaped unharmed by rocks or crocodiles; but he had evidence that a danger, as much, if not more to be dreaded, now threatened him. The water seemed gliding down an inclined plane, so rapidly was it sweeping him on; and beyond this, directly before him, he could hear the roaring of a cataract! What had been at first only a conjecture, soon became a certainty. He was going at arrow-like speed towards the brow of a waterfall. Throwing all his energies into the effort, he struggled to reach the shore at a point where the bank was accessible.