The current swept Jan further down, and he struck the rocks again; but this time he grasped a jutting ledge, found a place for his feet, and shouted for help at the top of his voice. “I’m comin’, ole chap,” responded Ben in return. “Look out! Foller me, Jule.” He plunged into the stream, while Jules remained standing on the bank. The trapper sunk from view in a moment. Taking advantage of the undertow, he swam toward the other shore. He had learned from the Indians the trick of swimming under water, and did it well. For a few moments nothing was heard but the splash of the water and the shouts of poor Jan, who imagined himself forsaken in the bleak world. All at once he beheld the water separate close by his side, and from the swift current Ben Miffin sprung into view, dashing the water from his eyes with one hand as he laid the other on the rocks to keep himself from floating downward. “How ar’ ye?” he said, coolly. “Rayther a cold berth, this.” “Ve never gets out of dis no more, Penn,” said Jan, despairingly. “I pees very mooch ’vraid ve gone dis dimes. Vy den you pring me to dis miser’ble coonthry?” “It’s good enough fer the natyves,” said Ben. “Shet up yer meat-trap. Let _me_ do the talkin’; I’ll hev enough of it, I reckon.” “Dalking’s no use,” replied the poor fellow. “Vat I vants ish to pe sure I can get out from dis. An’ dis ish vat I dinks: ve vill never get out from dis no more vile ve lifs, so help me ash I pelieve dis ish drue. Dere ish no more hope vor poor Jan Schneider. He ish deat unt drownded mit vasser. Ach! Mein Gott! Phew!” “Jest you open yer mouth ag’in, an’ I’ll give ye a smash right squar’ in the meat-trap. Now mind what I tell ye: I ain’t goin’ to hev two head bosses in this yer business--you bet I ain’t. Now listen to me, an’ hold yer row. Kin ye swim?” “Like a hoondred pounts off iron,” said Jan. “Gootness cracious!” “Thet’s bad. I never did see a Dutchman thet knowed any thing. Ye durned anatomy! Well, ef I let ye git on my shoulders, will ye promise not to ketch me round the neck?” “Yaw; I bromise anyt’ings, so ash I does not pe drownded mit vasser.” “Very good. Then when I give ye the word, lay yer hands on my shoulders an’ kick out with both feet. Kin ye do it?” “I kicks like ter duyvel.” Ben loosened his hold on the rock, and let himself float down to the speaker. When all was ready, Jan laid his brawny hands upon the shoulders of the trapper, and he pushed out from the shelving bank. Jan immediately began to flourish his heels like the paddles of an ocean steamer, leaving a broad trail of foam behind him. Indeed, so vehement were his efforts, that he buried the head of the swimmer under the water, and Ben was compelled to call on him to desist. But when he fell a dead weight upon the shoulders of the trapper, the drag became fearful even for his iron strength to sustain.