We had been told that the cataract was nine fathoms deep. To stop the raft was impossible: the pace was too great; and, as we approached this formidable danger, the men burst into a prayer, which, though they shouted at the tops of their voices, could scarcely be heard in the roar. I spoke not, but clutched the side of the raft with one hand and Ahtan with the other, for fear we should be swept off. As we came to the edge of the cataract, it looked so deep that the men were awed into silence, and my only thought was, Can we ever rise out of that abyss? Down we went. We felt a slight shock, the raft trembled, and in another moment we were buried in the recoiling waves. We rose again, our bows forced up into the air, and the stern completely hidden as I glanced round to look if the men were there, and then over the second tier of rocks, which were not so serious, as there was a deep pool beyond; and though we were again buried beneath the waters, yet we touched no rock. At the first cataract we but grazed the bottom. Had we struck, our raft must have been dashed to pieces; as it was, the centre trunk was driven from its place--I was about to say, like an arrow from a bow; but how far it went I cannot say; it left no trace behind it. I have attempted since to estimate the length of these falls; but, after allowing for the exaggeration natural to remembrance of one’s own adventures, I cannot think they were less than three and two fathoms, but probably more. However, we passed so rapidly that it was impossible to judge correctly. On we went, over a small cataract; and then the men gave vent to their feelings in a frantic yell, which they had been unable to utter after the great danger. As we cleared the point, we heard shouts from the bank; and, looking up, saw four of our men calling upon us to stop, as there were worse dangers ahead. As this reach was tolerably smooth, one of the men sprang into the stream with a long rattan in his hand, hoping to reach the shore, but it was dragged from him before he was half way. Then Musa, choosing a better spot, plunged in; he reached the shore, but, before he could land, the rattan was torn from his grasp, and we were swept away. I saw Musa, breathless, trying to free himself from the waves that dashed him against the rocks, and in another moment we were out of sight. Our two skilled men were gone; but we managed to keep the raft straight, and presently we were caught in a whirlpool. This was our best chance; one of the men sprang into the water, and was soon ashore. The rattan was twisted round a tree just as the stream caught us. This was a trying moment. The rattan began to part as the great strain came upon it; so I ordered the last man to make straight for the shore, and draw the raft out of the strength of the stream. The men really exerted themselves; and, in almost less time than it takes me to write this down, we were moored comfortably under the bank.