Part 39 (1/2)

The roar of the thunder in the narrow gorge that we were going through was terrific and the lightning streaks lit the gloom of the canyon with weird intensity, flas.h.i.+ng a strange glare on the red and turbulent river.

It was exceedingly dangerous and wonderfully exciting. I do not know how we would have managed if Tom had not been free to watch the river ahead.

It was so dark in the chasm that we could see only a short distance ahead. And the roar of the river and of the thunder was something terrible.

No landing could be made and we dashed blindly down. It was marvelously exciting, and we were keyed to the highest pitch of efficiency.

The white line of foam would be the first warning we would have of a rock ahead, then we would bend all our strength and sometimes our boat would tilt on the current that ran off from the rock. It was close.

If we had struck head on we would have been in a most critical situation. The lightning was of no real help, only serving to blind us.

Tom closed his eyes for the second of the flash so that he would not be blinded.

Fortunately the storm was brief and we saw a beautiful sight when the clouds cleared. On both sides of the canyon, from the cliffs twelve hundred feet in height, sprang numerous little water falls.

Some amber, others tinged with red or glittering with the silver of the sun. The largest in volume were four or five feet across, but before they reached the river below, they feathered out in spray. These cascades were beautiful indeed.

Several days after the thunder storm we had an overwhelming experience.

It came on us suddenly and without sufficient warning to enable us to reach the sh.o.r.e.

It was a clear day and there had been no storm in our vicinity. We were going swiftly down the current, in the midst of a canyon, with towering walls over three thousand feet in height.

Suddenly my ear caught the sound of a louder roar than the usual tone of the river. I glanced back and in my dismay I could give no word of warning.

But the other boys had heard the ominous, thunderous roar filling the narrow depth of the canyon. Jim sprang to the steering oar, and without a word Juarez leapt to Jim's vacant place.

A great flood wave was charging down the canyon, filling it from side to side, the center of it bulging and boiling forward in foam. It was a terrific sight.

”Roll the stern anchor forward,” yelled Jim.

The wave was a quarter of a mile away, coming down upon us with devouring fury.

”Defy the dragon, will you?” it seemed to roar. ”You are caught in its jaws now. No escape.”

Jim looked at it with a sneer of set teeth.

”We'll show you,” he yelled. ”You can't beat us, curse you!”

”Draw in the oars,” he commanded, ”into the bows; use the poles.”

It was almost upon us. The stern began to lift upwards.

”Stand by to repel boarders.” These were the last words we could hear.

Then we were swallowed up in a tumult of roaring, foaming water, whirled downward like a straw in the furious onset of the flood.

By throwing all the weight to the bow we had kept from being swamped.

Our high, strong sides saved us for the moment. If anything could stand the fury of that charge ”The Captain” could. Powerful, braced like an ironclad, unsinkable.