"Bale for all you're worth!" gasped Reeves, who was wellnigh breathless with the strain of holding the steering oar. "And look out for the powder. Keep it dry at all costs."
Gerald plied a wooden bowl as vigorously as he possibly could, while Hugh, holding on with difficulty, contrived to lift the bag of powder and place it on the small decked-in part of the bows.
For nearly ten minutes the nerve-racking ordeal lasted—Reeves afterwards said that it was one of the tightest places he had ever been in—while the distance covered in that time could hardly have been less than six miles. But the end of the gorge was now in sight. The wearied steersman gave an exclamation of relief, when, with a strange shudder, the boat swung round like a top, and, broadside on, drifted upon almost the last rock of the cataract.
By an almost superhuman effort Reeves succeeded in bringing the bows round; but it was just too late. The stern crashed upon the rock with a shock that threw the three occupants sprawling into the bottom of the boat, and the next thing they were aware of was that the craft was spinning slowly in the still agitated current, while the water was pouring in through the bottom or garboard strakes like a mill stream.
"Come for'ard, both of you!" shouted the correspondent, and whipping out his knife he cut the sail from the yard. Hastily rolling the canvas, he placed it over the damaged planks, which had the effect of considerably checking the inrush of water.
Then, rejoining his companions in the bows, he seized an oar, told Gerald to do the same, and kept the nearly water-logged craft on her course, while Hugh plied the baler.
They had now time to look about them. The gorge was left far astern, and the desert stretched for miles ahead and on either hand. The banks were now covered with coarse vegetation. Astern rose the mountains through which they had so wonderfully passed, and, looking at that formidable barrier, Reeves realized that they were far beyond the reach of their ferocious pursuers. The current, too, though swift, no longer surged madly between jagged rocks, but flowed silently, showing that the river had increased in depth.
"Now, what's to be done?" exclaimed Hugh, who had managed to get rid of most of the undesirable liquid ballast. "The water is still coming in."
"We don't want to be baling continuously for the next three weeks," observed Reeves. "We must risk it, and run the boat ashore."
"And trudge it?" asked Gerald dolefully.