But
we entered exactly in the center and were swept forward with a
rush.
The ceiling of the tunnel was so low that we could not stand
upright on the raft, and the stream was not more than forty feet
wide. That was anything but promising; if the stream really ran
through to the western slope, its volume of water should have
been increasing instead of diminishing. I said nothing of that to
Harry or Desiree.
We had sailed along thus without incident for upward of half an
hour, when my carelessness, or the darkness, nearly brought us to
grief. Suddenly, without warning, there was a violent jar and the
raft rebounded with a force that all but threw us into the water.
Coming to a bend in the stream, the current had dashed us against
the other bank.
But, owing to the flexibility of its sides, the raft escaped
damage. I had my oar against the wall instantly, shoving off, and
we swung round and caught the current again round the curve.
But that bend was to the left, as the other had been, which meant
that we were now going in exactly the opposite direction of that
in which we had started! Which, in turn, meant the death of hope;
we were merely winding in and out in a circle and getting
nowhere.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353