"Run her ashore again," shouted Ferrier, "and let me swing clear." John obeyed. He would not have shirked the task of leading, but Ferrier’s experience might make all the difference between success and failure, and it was certainly not a time to run any avoidable risks. Some minutes passed before he managed to strike the bank, and then the raft crashed against the projecting stem of a tree with a violence that threw John on to his back. Up in an instant, he clutched a branch just in time to prevent the raft from drifting away, and held on until Ferrier had passed in mid-stream, and the vessels had regained their former order. During this interlude nothing was heard of the enemy. The banks of the river were fortunately too steep and too densely wooded to allow their access. For a little while all went well. Where the banks were low and free from tall trees the level rays of the rising moon threw a faint light upon the water, enabling Ferrier to use his pole with more confidence. But on entering a narrower reach where the trees came down to the water’s edge, the sudden passage from comparative light to absolute darkness prevented him from seeing a rocky ledge jutting out from the right bank. The raft scraped it for a few feet, then stuck fast. The second raft, coming directly in its wake, did not this time sweep by, but bumped the first, and both were now end to end on the rock. The most energetic work with the poles failing to dislodge them, John said-- "Let’s have a rest. There’s no sign of the enemy, and I’m desperately hungry." "That’s all very well," replied Ferrier, "but the longer we delay the worse off we shall be presently. It gives the enemy time to get ahead of us, and they’ll be waiting for us at the pool. I rather fancy they’ve already outstripped us by cutting across country; the river winds a good deal." "All the same, we shan’t be any the better off for being famished when we meet them. Besides, I want to talk to you; we haven’t settled what we’re going to do." "Very well; we’ll have a tuck-in. What’s the time? My match-box is empty." John struck a match. His watch had stopped. "The spring must have broken when I toppled over," he said. "Isn’t yours going?" "It hasn’t been going for a couple of days. We can’t tell how far we’ve come. How is our direction?" "We’re pointing north-west," replied John, after a glance at his compass. "There must be a big curve here. I fancy we must have just about got to the place where Bill and I launched our raft. If so, it will be getting light by the time we reach the pool. What do you think of doing then?" "That depends on the look of things when we get there. How long are the rapids?" "About half-a-mile, I should think." "Any rocks?" "Upon my word I don’t know. I was too anxious about holding on to notice. But judging from the battering we got I should say plenty."