The Wild Man of the West by Robert Michael Ballantyne (epub e ink reader TXT) 📕

cataract there was a short stretch of comparatively smooth water, in which, however, the current was very strong. Immediately above that there was a rapid of considerable length and strength, which boiled furiously among the rocks, and seemed to be impassable to a canoe. After close inspection of it, however, Redhand and Bounce, who were tacitly recognised as joint leaders of the party, agreed that the canoe could easily enough be hauled up by means of a line. To make a long portage, and so avoid the whole obstruction, was desirable; but the precipitous nature of the banks at that place rendered the carrying of the canoe and goods a work not only of severe labour, but of considerable danger.

The mode of proceeding having been settled, all hands went to work without delay. The goods were carried to the top of the fall, which was about fifteen feet high, then the canoe was shouldered by Waller and Bounce, and soon it floated in a calm eddy near the head of the cataract. Having replaced the cargo, a strong line or rope was fastened to the bows, and Redhand and Bounce proceeded to take their places in the canoe, in order to guide it through the rapid, while the others were engaged in hauling on the track-line.

"Stay," cried March Marston as Bounce was stepping in, "let me go in the canoe, Bounce. You know well enough that I can manage it; besides, you're a heavy buffalo, and more able to track than I."

"Nay, lad," replied Bounce, shaking his head, "you'll only run the risk o' gettin' a wet skin--mayhap somethin' worse."

"Now, that's too bad. D'ye think nobody can manage a canoe but yourself? Come, Redhand, do let me go."

"It's not safe, boy. The rapid looks bad, and you're not much used to the bow-paddle."

"Tut, nonsense," exclaimed March, pushing Bounce aside and stepping into the canoe. "Now hold on."

Before the men on the bank of the river were well aware of what the reckless youth was about, he shoved the bow of the canoe off. The instant it passed the still water of the eddy and caught the powerful stream, the light bark darted like an arrow from the bank, and Redhand was obliged to use his paddle with the utmost dexterity, while the men on shore had to haul on the line with all their might, to prevent it being swept over the brink of the fall. In a second, however, the danger was past, and, putting their strength to the track-line, they dragged the canoe slowly but steadily upstream, while Redhand and March guided it past rocks and dangerous eddies. Seeing that the youth used his paddle dexterously, Bounce, after a little thought, resolved to let him encounter the more dangerous rapid above. Redhand silently came to the same conclusion, though he felt uneasy and blamed himself for allowing the ardour of the boy to get the better of him.

"March is a bold fellow," observed Bertram, who walked immediately behind Bounce, hauling on the line like the rest.

"Bold he is, sir," replied Bounce; "an' if ye'd seed him, as I did not many weeks agone, a-ridin' on the back of a buffalo bull, ye'd mayhap say he was more nor that."

"Hah! he is mad!" cried Gibault, who, although the last in the line of tracksmen, was sharp-eared, and overheard the conversation.

"Don't talk, Gibault," interposed Big Waller, "you need all the wind in your little carcass, I guess, to enable ye to steam ahead."

"Oui, mon dear ami, you is right--I do ver' much require all mine steam--mine spirits--for to push such a heavy, useless hulk as you before me."

"Here's a steep bit, lads; mind your eye, Hawkswing," said Bounce, as the Indian who led the party began to ascend a steep part of the bank, where the footing was not secure, owing to the loose gravelly nature of the soil.

As they advanced, the path along the bank became narrower, and the cliff itself so precipitous that it seemed as if a jerk on the line would drag the men off and send them rolling down into the flood below, in the midst of which the canoe was buffeting its way through the hissing foam.

Bertram, who was unused to such a position of comparative danger, and whose head was not capable of standing the sight of a precipice descending from his very feet into a roaring stream, began to feel giddy, and would have given the world to return; but he felt ashamed to confess his weakness, and endeavoured, by gazing earnestly into the bank at his side, to steady himself, hoping that the nature of the track would improve as they advanced. Instead of this being the case, it became worse at every step, and the trackers were at length obliged to proceed cautiously along a ledge of rock that barely afforded them foothold. Bertram now felt an almost irresistible desire to turn his head to the left and glance at the river below; yet he knew that if he should do so, he would become utterly unable to advance another yard. While engaged in this struggle it suddenly occurred to him that it was impossible now to turn, no matter how nervous he should become, as the path was too narrow to permit one of the party to pass another! He became deadly pale, and his heart sank at the thought. Little did the hardy trappers think, as they plodded silently along, that such an agonising conflict was going on in the breast of one of their number! A slight groan escaped him in spite of his utmost efforts to restrain himself. Bounce looked back in surprise.

"Hey! wot's to do, sir?"

"No matter; lead on--I will follow," said Bertram sternly between his clenched teeth.

"Hallo! up there," shouted Redhand, who was at that moment, along with March, exerting his utmost strength in order to keep the canoe off a rock over which the water was bursting in volumes of thick foam; "haul away! haul away! we're just about up."

The shout attracted Bertram's attention; he turned his eyes involuntarily towards the river. Instantly his brain swam round; he staggered, and would have fallen over the bank, had not Big Waller, who was close behind, observed his situation and caught him by the collar. In doing so he was compelled to let go his hold of the line. The additional strain thus suddenly cast upon Gibault wrenched the line from his grasp with a degree of violence that wellnigh hurled him into the river. Bounce and Hawkswing held on for one moment, but the canoe, having been eased off a little, caught a sweep of the rapid, and went out with a dart that the united strength of the whole party could not have checked. The two men had to let go to save themselves, and in a shorter time than it takes to relate, the canoe went down the river towards the fall, dancing like a cork on the heaving spray, while the old man and the youth stood up in the bow and stern wielding their paddles, now on one side, now on the other, with ceaseless rapidity in their efforts to avoid being dashed to pieces on the rocks.

The sight of this catastrophe, superadded to his already agonised feelings, caused the unhappy artist to swoon. Gibault, on seeing the line let go, turned instantly, and sprang like a deer along the track they had been following; intending to render what assistance he could to his comrades at the foot of the rapid. The others could not follow, because of Big Waller and the artist, who obstructed the path. Seeing this, the powerful Yankee seized Bertram round the waist, and, heaving him on his shoulder as one would swing a child, followed in Gibault's footsteps as fast as he could run.

The distance to the spot whence they had commenced to track the canoe was not great, but before they reached it the frail craft had been shattered against a rock, and was now hurrying, along with the scattered cargo and the two men, towards the fall, to pass over which involved certain destruction.

There is nothing more uncertain, however, than the action of the whirling eddies of a great rapid. True, the general flow of its body of water is almost always the same, but its superficial billows are more variable--now tossing a drifting log to the right, anon to the left, and casting it ashore, or dragging it with fearful violence into the raging current. Although there was only the canoe's length between the old trapper and the youth when they were left struggling in the water, they were swept in totally different directions. Redhand was hurled violently into the eddy where the canoe had lain before the ascent was commenced, and was dragged safe to land by his comrades. March Marston, on the other hand, was swept out near to the main current, and would, in a few seconds more, have been carried over the fall, had he not, with wonderful presence of mind and an almost superhuman exertion of muscle, dashed into an eddy which was formed by a rock about fifty yards from the top of the fall. The rock was completely covered with the bursting spray, so that it formed no resting-place, and it, with the partial eddy that tailed away from it, was about twenty yards from the shore, where the trappers stood gazing in horror at their companion as he struggled bravely to maintain his position by swimming; but to cross those twenty yards of gushing water, so as to afford him aid, seemed beyond the power of man.

Men bred in the wilderness are not usually slow to act in cases of danger where action is possible. Each man was revolving in fervid haste every plan that seemed likely to afford succour. Redhand's quick eye observed that the rocks at the edge of the fall, on the side of the river on which they stood, projected out so far that a straight line drawn from the eddy to the fall would pass within a yard of them, and that, consequently, if March would push straight across the stream and make vigorously for the bank, he might hit the point of rocks referred to before being carried over.

"Down, some of you," he cried, "to the point, an' be ready to catch him; I'll shout to him what to do."

Big Waller and Gibault darted away. Poor Bertram, having recovered, remained gazing in speechless agony at March, who, having made several fruitless efforts to seize hold of the sunken rock, was evidently growing weaker. Bounce also remained to gaze, as if he had lost all his wonted self-command.

"Ho! March!" shouted Redhand. "Dash into the stream--straight for me-- with all yer might; don't be afraid, lad! do it boldly!" But March heard not. The rush of water about him deadened all other sounds.

In an instant Bounce started at full speed up the river, plunged into it, and, descending with fearful rapidity, swung round into the eddy behind the stone almost before his companions could divine what he meant to do.

Even in that moment of terrible suspense March Marston looked with an expression of surprise at his friend as he swam up beside him. Bounce did not waste time or words; he merely raised one hand for a second, and, pointing to the bank