A minute of gasping, stifling battle among the tumbling, roaring waves. The strain on the rope was so tremendous that it seemed to Nick that either it must break or the man who held it must be pulled off his slippery perch.
But neither happened, and inch by inch the boy was drawn in, until a hand grasped him and pulled him, gasping and exhausted, onto the solid summit of the bowlder.
"Can you jump?" He heard an anxious voice. "The water's still rising. It'll be over the rock soon."
"You bet I can," replied Nick, struggling to his feet and shaking himself like a dog.
"Come on, then!" cried the other. And, sure-footed as a goat, he sprang across six feet of raging torrent to the next rock. Nick set his teeth and followed, and in another minute was safe ashore beside his rescuer.
"Mean to say you live here all alone!" exclaimed Nick Salveson in blank amazement, as he looked round the bare little log hut a little later.
"Yes, for the last four months, ever since my father left."
"Did he go down to the coast?"
"I wish he had. No, he went inland, over the Big Snowies!"