My Strange Rescue, and Other Stories of Sport and Adventure in CanadaOxley, J. Macdonald (James Macdonald)
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My Strange Rescue, and Other Stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada
Oxley, J. Macdonald (James Macdonald)
Canada -- Juvenile fiction; Canada -- Juvenile literature
His brain was busy seeking some scheme for escape from their exceeding
peril, and as he glanced anxiously ahead, a thought flashed into his
mind that caused his eye to brighten and his pale face to light up with
hope and determination.
Right on the edge of the rapids, just before the smooth swift stream
broke up into tumultuous billows, stood a little island—a mere patch of
rocks, crowned with half-a-dozen straggling trees.
If he could only beach the canoe on this island they might yet be saved.
It was all that remained between them and certain death.
The island was not more than two hundred yards distant, and to reach it
he must make the canoe cut obliquely through the current. Summoning all
his energies for a supreme effort, he bent to his task, in the meantime
saying to Lon,—
"Be ready to jump the moment the canoe strikes."
For a boy of his age, Alec put a wonderful degree of strength into his
strokes, and he had the joy of seeing his frail craft obey, in spite of
the opposing waters, until it was pointing fair for the island. Then
with a glad hurrah he ceased fighting the current, and joined forces
with it, so successfully as to drive the canoe straight towards the
rocks.
He did not miss his aim. With a leap, as though it were alive, the
canoe rushed at the island and ran half its length out of the water, a
sound of splintering wood telling that its bottom had suffered in so
doing.
With feelings of indescribable relief the boys sprang out upon the solid
ground, and instantly embracing one another, danced about in sheer
exuberance of joy.
The rapids were cheated of their prey, and the worst of the peril was
passed.
Having thus given vent to their feelings, they proceeded to examine the
canoe, and were glad to find that its bottom was not very badly injured,
and could be easily repaired.
Their next thought was, how could they get off the island? They were
safe enough there for the present, of course, and they had sufficient
provisions, if carefully husbanded, to keep them from starving for three
or four days.
But they had no idea of playing the part of Robinson Crusoe and his man
Friday, even for that short space of time, if it could possibly be
helped. So they got on the edge of the island nearest Britannia, and
Alec held up his paddle with his coat on it as a signal of distress,
while both shouted at the top of their voices.
Their shouts were drowned in the ceaseless roar of the rapids; but after
a while their signal of distress was observed, and soon a crowd had
gathered on the shore opposite them, and there was great excitement.
Everybody was eager to help, but nobody knew just what to do. All sorts
of schemes were suggested for the rescue of the boys, the most feasible
of which was to have a large boat go out above the rapids and anchor
there, and then send down a smaller one secured by a rope, with which it
could be hauled back again, for no boat could by any possibility be
rowed back against that mighty current.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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