There was a succession of benches through which the stream zigzagged and
tumbled. These benches were rock ledges over which moss had grown fully
a foot thick, and they were so oozy and slippery that it was no easy
task to walk upon them. Then they were steep, so steep that it was
remarkable how the water ran over them so smoothly, with very little
noise or break. It was altogether a new kind of waterfall to Ken. But
if the snakes had not been hidden there, navigation would have presented
an easier problem.
“Come on boys, alongside now, and hold back,” he ordered, gripping the
bow.
Exactly what happened the next few seconds was not clear in his mind.
There was a rush, and all were being dragged by the boat. The glade
seemed to whizz past. There were some sodden thumps, a great splashing,
a check--and lo! they were over several benches. It was the quickest
and easiest descent he had ever made down a steep waterfall.
“Fine!” ejaculated George, wiping the ooze from his face.
“Yes, it was fine,” Ken replied. “But unless this boat has wings
something’ll happen soon.”
Below was a long, swift curve of water, very narrow and steep, with a
moss-covered rock dividing the lower end. Ken imagined if there was a
repetition of the first descent the boat would be smashed on that rock.
He ordered Pepe, who was of course the strongest, to go below and jump
to the rock. There he might prevent a collision.
Pepe obeyed, but as he went he yelled and doubled up in contortions as
he leaped over snakes in the moss.
Then gently, gingerly the boys started the boat off the bench, where it
had lodged. George was at the stern, Ken and Hal at the bow. Suddenly
Hal shrieked and jumped straight up, to land in the boat.
“Snakes!” he howled.
“Give us a rest!” cried Ken, in disgust.
The boat moved as if instinct with life. It dipped, then--_wheeze!_ it
dove over the bench. Hal was thrown off his feet, fell back on the
gunwale, and thence into the snaky moss. George went sprawling face
downward into the slimy ooze, and Ken was jerked clear off the bench
into the stream. He got his footing and stood firm in water to his
waist, and he had the bow-rope coiled round his hands.
“Help! Help!” he yelled, as he felt the dragging weight too much for
him.
If Ken retarded the progress of the boat at all, it was not much.
George saw his distress and the danger menacing the boat, and he leaped
valiantly forward. As he dashed down a slippery slant his feet flew up
higher than where his head had been; he actually turned over in the air,
and fell with a great sop.
Hal had been trying to reach Ken, but here he stopped and roared with
laughter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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