Jim stood poised on the edge of the rock, then with a spring he launched upstream as far as he could. I drew in the slack as quickly as possible, then I felt the force of the current as it clutched at Jim. It pulled like a powerful runaway horse.
It almost drew us down the river; if Jim had not been able to help himself we would never have made it. But with the rope to give him confidence he fought strongly against the current.
It certainly tested our strength to the utmost. But the sinewy arms that I had acquired and the knotted muscles at the back again stood us in good stead.
I was aroused to the limit, and with a last powerful pull, we got Jim into shallow water and carried him to the little beach, for he was about all in, having shipped considerable water.
We worked his arms and rolled him in the most approved fashion and he soon came around, but he was perfectly willing to lie for awhile on the warm sand. As we worked there we talked over Jim's escapade.
"This will be the last time I'll fool with that river," said Jim ruefully. "It was just by luck that it did not send me down by the underground route."
"You're a pretty game fish to land," I said.
"You branded me under the arms all right with that rope," he said.
"It did raise quite a welt," remarked Tom. "I guess Jo thought you were a maverick when he lassoed you."
"You fellows look like white men now," said Jim, "since you've had a bath."