Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen BessCollingwood, Harry
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Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen Bess
Collingwood, Harry
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
At length, when they had been journeying up the river in leisurely
fashion for about three weeks, meeting with no adventure worthy of
record, on a certain hot and steamy afternoon, when the boat, under
sail, was doing little more than barely stem the current, they gradually
became aware of a low, faint roar, at first scarcely distinguishable
above the rustle of the wind in the trees aloft and the buzzing hum of
the innumerable insects which swarmed in the forest and hovered in
clouds over the surface of the water. But as the boat continued to
creep upstream the roar gradually increased in intensity, until at
length, as they rounded a bend and entered another reach of the river
which extended practically straight for nearly three miles ahead of
them, they saw, at a distance of about a mile, a long stretch of
foaming, tumbling water, rushing headlong down through a rocky gorge,
about three hundred yards wide, over what was evidently a rocky bed, for
the brown heads of several rocks were seen protruding above the leaping
water in the channel. Rapids! with a fall of nearly thirty feet in
about half a mile. This was a formidable obstacle indeed, for it did
not seem possible that they could get the boat through them; and if they
should be obliged to abandon her, what would then happen? Obviously
they would be obliged to walk the rest of the distance--or to build
another boat, or canoe, above the rapids; and it was difficult to say
which was the more distasteful alternative of the two. Walking,
probably, for although their belongings were few and by no means
cumbersome to carry, the forest was so dense that, as they had already
proved by experience, it was scarcely possible to travel a hundred feet
without being faced by the necessity to cut their way.
"Well," said practical Dick, after they had sat staring at the beautiful
but tantalising scene for full five minutes, "it's no use meeting
trouble halfway, or wondering how we are going to get across the bridge
until we come to it; let's push on and get as close up as we can; then
we'll get ashore, walk up along, and have a look at the place. Perhaps
when we come to it, it will not look so bad as it does from here."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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