Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier — John Shaqi
Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the FrontierEllis, Edward Sylvester
General
Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier
Ellis, Edward Sylvester
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction
Young Edwards was still too bewildered to comprehend matters. His
struggling continued, but it was instinctive and naturally without the
least result. His companion retained his grasp on his collar until he
saw that nothing could be gained by it. Then he let go and gave more
attention to himself.
By this time they were on the brink of the falls. The torrent moved with
a calm, swift, hurrying impressiveness that was the more appalling
because of its contrast with the churning hades of waters below. It was
as if the volume, gathering itself for the plunge, ran forward with
eager speed and dived off the rocks into the boiling cauldron.
Larry Murphy was too wise to make any resistance. He drew in his breath,
cast one look at the white face of his friend, uttered a prayer for
both, and then over they went.
Neither of the youths were ever able to tell clearly what followed
during the few moments, though their experiences must have been quite
similar. Larry Murphy probably kept better track of events than his
companion, because he had not suffered the temporary daze undergone by
him a brief while before.
It seemed to him that on the very brink of the falls he was thrown
bodily outward and downward by some fearful power independent of the
resistless current. The descent, of necessity, was short, but it
appeared to be tenfold its actual length. Then he went down, down, down,
as though he would never stop, until he fancied that he was driven to
the bottom of a watery cavern of immeasurable depths.
He instinctively held his breath until he felt that the distended
blood-vessels must burst. He was whirled about and tossed hither and
thither amid spray and foam and more sold water, like an egg-shell in a
maelstrom. Then, when he could hold his breath no longer, he made one
spasmodic inhalation. He was almost strangled, but a part of that which
he drew in was air. The next breath was all air, and then he was
swimming in the comparatively smooth water below the falls.
As soon as he could clear his eyes and look about him, he saw that he
was borne along by the swift current, which was double the width of the
stream above. Instead of the rocky bluffs which rendered it almost
unapproachable in that portion, the banks were comparatively low and
lined with large trees, some of which leaned out over the water, with
their limbs almost touching it.
The most pleasing sight that greeted Larry was that of his friend in the
act of lifting himself upon dry land, with the help of one of the
overhanging limbs. He had escaped and was himself again.
"Are you all right?" he called, in a cheery voice, looking around at
Larry, who was swimming hard toward the same point, but would be unable
to strike it until he passed a few rods below.
"I'm not sure, but I think I be; I'll report whin I sets fut on dry
land."
"If you are bruised or hurt, I'll swim out to your help."
"Stay where ye be till I asks ye to do the same."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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