"So we are," said Toby. "The water's coming up over the top now, and if we don't get on dry land soon, we'll all be sitting in a puddle."
In spite of its being water-logged and lower in the water, the raft was beginning to go faster, for the current had suddenly become swifter. The wind blew stronger; it swept through the narrow passage-way so briskly that Toby put his hat over the candle; but he was too late; the light wavered and went out. A groan went up from the company.
"I can hear that rushing sound plainer," said Aunt Amanda.
"Hit's wery like a water-fall," said Mr. Punch.
"I wish it understood," said the Sly Old Fox, "distinctly understood, that I am here under protest. If I had ever for one moment imagined—"
"O-o-oh!" screamed Aunt Amanda. "We're going—faster—o-o-oh!"
She threw her arm around Freddie and held him tight. The current suddenly became swifter; the raft, almost under water, was leaping forward at a frightful speed. Directly ahead of them, growing louder and louder, was the roar of rushing water.
"Hold—on—tight, Freddie!" cried Aunt Amanda.
"We'll all be done for," shouted Toby, "in another—minute, I reckon,—hold—on—tight!"
As Toby said this, the raft almost galloped. The roar of falling water burst on them from close ahead. The raft seemed to rise up and then to sink down. Its nose slanted downward. The roar of falling water was all about them. Aunt Amanda screamed,