‘Report yourself to your colonel as under arrest, sir,’ snapped the general, and turned upon his heel.
Left alone, General Shields made a careful survey of the river and the bank in his immediate vicinity, but finding nothing for his pains, returned without further delay to the camp, where he at once gave orders that the pickets should be doubled along the line next the enemy, and also, as might have been expected, changed the countersign for the night.
The moment Lucius took the water, it became plain to him that he had entered upon no light undertaking, and looking round, he informed the Grizzly of this.
‘Say, Grizzly,’ he cried, ‘this is going to take me all my time. The current is tremendous. Watch out now, and the moment you see that the rope is taut, work your paddle for all you’re worth, so as to bring her nose round.’
He drew a deep breath, and turning half over, cleft the water with a powerful side-stroke, in order to bring the greatest possible force to bear on the nose of the boat, and suddenly. It told. She stopped with a shiver, the water churning at her bows, and slowly her nose began to come round. Ephraim worked madly with his rifle-butt, hissing at every splash like a stable-boy grooming a horse.
‘She’s round!’ he cried joyously. ‘She’s round, Luce! Her nose is ter the bank!’
On hearing this satisfactory piece of intelligence, Lucius turned over on his chest and swam with frog strokes towards the shore. He was wise enough not to attempt this in a bee-line, but moved diagonally, content to progress if it were but an inch at a time, so long as, aided by Ephraim’s paddle, he could keep the boat’s nose in the right direction. It was fortunate for him that he was young and strong, and that he knew how to husband his strength, for he needed it all in that chill, swiftly flowing stream.
Presently Ephraim hailed him with encouraging words: ‘Ye’re gittin’ thar, Luce. Ye’re gittin’ thar. Air ye tired, bub? Let yerself drift ef ye air. Thar’s not a sign er any wan on the bank above or below. My! I wish I could swim, Luce. Ye wouldn’t be long in thar. Keep it up, sonny. Ye’re gittin’ us thar.’ And so on, with many soothing, senseless words that fell gratefully upon the ear of the almost exhausted Lucius.
The boy lifted his eyes and glanced ahead. The bank was now but thirty feet away; but at the rate he was making it, it was not unlikely that ten minutes more in the water awaited him. He could not bear to think of it, for already his limbs felt numb, and his breath began to fail him. He shut his eyes, set his teeth hard, and struck out blindly. He heard the plashing of Ephraim’s sorry paddle behind him, and the sound was as the noise of thunder in his ears. His strokes became feebler and less frequent, his body swayed more and more to the rush of the current, and for all that he could do, the rope slackened every now and then. Still he kept on, beating down that wild desire to hail Ephraim, who he knew would haul him in at the first call, and slowly struggling towards the goal of all their hopes, the shore. Suddenly his heart gave a great leap, seeming to turn over in his chest and stop dead. A great roaring filled his ears, his head seemed to split asunder with the force of the pain that racked it; a shriek which made but a bubbling in the water about his mouth burst from his throat; and as a dead-weight seemed to drag him downwards, he threw his hands above his head.
Something touched them, and he grasped wildly, clawing at the yielding support. Joy! It was a branch. He hung on with all his remaining strength, and in another instant Ephraim had made fast and dragged him into the boat.