I took a short run forward and sprang out in the river as far as I could in the direction of the drifting boat. Jim and Tom were doing all they could, but it was impossible for one oar to effectively hold against the current.
Jim had his hands full with the steering sweep. As soon as I lit in the icy river,—my leap must have been eighteen feet,—I struck out desperately for the boat. The current helped me, but it seemed to be carrying the craft on faster than I did.
It was terrible, I had to catch it or my death was certain. Nothing could have saved me. "The Captain" seemed as remote and unreachable as though the length in feet that separated us had been miles.
If you have ever chased after a train that was gathering momentum every second as it pulls from the station, a train that you feel you must catch, you can have a faint inkling of how I felt. Still only a faint idea, for there was no later train for me.
I had to fight back a blinding fear and panic. If my heart had become cold like my body I should have not had the slightest chance. I was a strong swimmer and in my desperation I actually pulled up two strokes on her.
Then she reached a swifter current and pulled away from me rapidly. I struggled on blindly, though I knew I was lost. A mist was before my eyes and I was conscious of nothing but a straining, strangling, struggling sensation.
Then my hand instinctively grasped something, and I held on with the clutch of desperation. It was a rope. I felt myself being drawn toward the boat. I had sense enough left to help myself onto the craft, then I collapsed.
I came out of it, in a few minutes and found myself lying alongside the cabin. For a second I did not realize where I was. I heard the roar of the river all around and saw the great walls of red sandstone towering up and up, almost shutting out the sky.
Then I saw Jim at the steering oar and Tom laboring at the bow oar, and it all came over me. I grew suddenly weak as I realized the narrowness of my escape and I clutched the boards and tried to shut out the sound of the river that seemed like a hungry and devouring animal that for a moment had been balked of its prey.
"How are you now, Jo?" yelled Jim, anxiously. "We can't do anything for you for a bit; we are in the rapids."