THE correspondent's fear was only too well grounded. Just before midday an ominous increase in the rate of the stream betokened cataracts or rapids ahead. But, in spite of the accelerated speed of the boat, the implacable Arabs held tenaciously to their tactics of riding ahead and firing volleys from ambush. To reply would have been a waste of ammunition, for owing to the swirling of the current it was impossible for the crew to take a careful aim at their foes.
Reeves calculated that nearly five hundred shots had been fired at the boat without much damage being done; but at length one bullet did more harm than all the rest put together. Cutting through the halyards, it brought the sail down with a run, and the unwieldy craft swung round broadside on to the stream.
Without hesitation, Reeves seized another piece of rope and began to climb the mast. His appearance attracted a heavy fire, the bullets whizzing unpleasantly close. One grazed his ankle, and another cut the rope he was holding close to his head, so that he was compelled to descend without having achieved his object.
There was no help for it but to make use of the oars, and, cowering behind the rough-and-ready breastwork, the lads contrived to get the boat's head round, while Reeves recovered his breath before he essayed a fresh attempt.
Just as he was preparing to go aloft once more, he happened to glance ahead. To his horror he found that the river was about to traverse a narrow gorge, while the actual stream was encumbered with huge rocks, between which the water surged furiously.
Springing forward, the correspondent dropped the stone that served as an anchor overboard, paying out just sufficient cable to check the boat's way, the lump of stone bumping and scraping over the bottom of the river. The craft swung round, head pointing upstream, and by manipulating the long, steering oar Reeves was able to keep her fairly under control.
He had to stand upright—a target for the Bedouins' muskets; but, ignoring the danger, he kept his face turned resolutely towards the cataract, knowing that to strike upon one of those wicked-looking rocks meant total disaster.
The range, too, was decreasing, and with redoubled shouts the Arabs, thinking that the occupants of the boat were too busy to reply, sprang boldly from cover and, leaping from rock to rock, came as close to the water's edge as they possibly could. But Hugh was equal to the occasion. Ramming a handful of duck shot down the barrel of his musket he let fly at those of the Bedouins who were nearest to him. Maddened with the pain of a dozen slight wounds, three of the Arabs dropped their guns and literally danced, their shouts of anguish so alarming their companions that they bolted for cover.
The precipitous sides of the gorge prevented further pursuit; but the aspect was alarming enough, for the craft, in spite of the trailing stone, was darting through the boiling water with the velocity of a torpedo boat.
Bracing himself at the rudder, Reeves veered the lumbering boat as skilfully as he could, missing sharp, spray-flecked rocks by a handbreadth. Every now and then a vicious-crested wave would pour over the gunwale of the plunging craft, till the weight of water aboard began to make itself felt.