THROUGH THE CREVASSE

As the daylight increased, it became possible to see a little further into the fog, and there was now a little air stirring in fitful fashion, which tore holes in the thick bank of mist, but only for a moment or two at a time.

Through one of these brief openings Phil presently made a startling discovery. The flatboat was running at an exceedingly rapid rate along a nearly overflowed levee on the Mississippi side of the river, and within fifty or sixty feet of it. The crest of the embankment rose only a few inches above the level of the water, and the current was swifter than any that Phil had seen since the flatboat had left the falls of the Ohio behind. What it all meant Phil did not know, nor could he imagine how or why the boat had drifted out of the main current to the shore in this way; but he felt that there was danger there, and calling his comrades to the sweeps, made every effort to regain the outer reaches of the river. But try as they might at the oars, the boat persisted in hugging the bank, while her speed seemed momentarily to increase. Men on the levee were calling to Phil, but so excitedly that he could not make out their meaning.

Presently there was another little break in the fog-bank, and Phil saw what was the matter. Just ahead of the boat the levee had given way, and the river was plunging like a Niagara through a crevasse, already two or three hundred feet wide, and growing wider with every second. The boat had been caught in the current leading to the crevasse, and was now being drawn into the swirling rapid.

Phil had hardly time to realize the situation before the boat began whirling about madly, and a moment later she plunged head foremost through the crevasse and out into the seething waste of waters that was now overspreading fields and woodlands beyond. As the land here lay much lower than the surface of the river, and as the country had not yet had time, since the levee broke, to fill to anything like the river level, passing through the crevasse was like plunging over a cataract, and after passing through, the boat was carried forward at a truly fearful speed across the fields. Fortunately, she encountered no obstacle. Had she struck anything in that mad career, the box-like craft would have been broken instantly to bits.

As she receded from the river she left the worst of the fog behind. It was possible now to see for fifty or a hundred yards in every direction, and what the boys saw was appalling. There were horses and cattle frantically struggling in the water, only to sink beneath it at last, for even the strongest horse could not swim far in a surging torrent like that.

There were cross currents of great violence too, and eddies and whirlpools created by the seemingly angry efforts of the water to find the lowest levels and occupy them. These erratic currents took possession of the boat, and whirled her hither and thither, until her crew lost all sense of direction and distance, and everything else except the necessity of clinging to the sweep bars to avoid being spilled overboard by the sudden careenings of the boat to one side and then the other, and her plungings as the water swept her onward.

Once they saw a human being struggling in the seething water. A moment later he was gone, but whether drowned or carried away to some point of rescue there was no way of finding out.

Once they swept past a stately dwelling-house, submerged except as to its roof; what fate had befallen its inhabitants they could never know, for the next instant a strong current caught the boat, and drove it, side first, straight toward a great barn that had been carried off its foundations and was now afloat. For a moment the boys expected to be driven against the barn with appalling violence—an event that would have meant immediate destruction. But the currents changed in an instant, so that the barn was carried in one direction and the boat in another. As the two drifted apart there were despairing cries from the floating building, which had been badly crushed in collision with something, and was in danger of falling to pieces at any moment. The boys looked, and caught a glimpse of a number of negro children clinging to the wrecked structure. An instant later the barn disappeared in what was left of the fog.

The boys were sickened by what they had seen and by what they felt must be its sequel. It is a fearful thing to have to stand still, doing nothing, when human creatures are being carried to a cruel death before one’s eyes. But as yet the boys could do nothing except cling to their own boat. Two of their skiffs had been carried away, and it would have been certain death to make even an effort to launch any of the others.

They were swept on and on for miles. They had passed beyond the cultivated lands and out into a forest. Here the danger was greater than ever, as a single collision with a tree would have made an end of everything. But the turbulence of the water was slowly subsiding at last, and the boat floated, still unsteadily indeed, but with less violent plungings than before. It was possible now, by exercising great care, to move about a little, and Phil quickly seized the opportunity to get some things done that he deemed necessary.

“Irv, you and Constant go to the starboard pump,” he said hurriedly; “Ed and Will to the other; the boat must be badly wrenched, and she’ll fill with water. Pump like maniacs.”

The boys went to their posts, and managed to work the pumps, though with difficulty. Water came freely in answer to their efforts, showing that Phil’s conjecture was correct.

Phil himself climbed down the little companionway, receiving some bruises and one rather ugly cut on the head as he did so, for the sudden tossings of the boat still continued, though less violently than before. He found matters below in rather better condition than he had feared. The space under the flooring—or the bilge, as it is called—was full, and there was a good deal of water washing about above the floor. The boat was too unsteady for Phil to estimate the depth of the leakage, or to discover the rapidity with which the water was coming in. But he hoped that diligent pumping might yet save the craft.

Having hurriedly made his inspection, he proceeded next to fill a basket with food, taking first that which could be eaten without further cooking,—canned goods, dried beef, and the like,—and, returning to the deck, deposited his stores in one of the skiffs. He repeated this several times, till he had fully provisioned two of the boats. It did not require many minutes to do this, and they were minutes that he could not use to better advantage in any other way, for there was still no possibility of directing the flatboat’s course by using the oars, and Phil deemed it wise thus to provision the skiffs, so that if the boat should sink, he and his comrades, or some of them, at least, might have a chance of escape in them without starving before reaching dry land somewhere.

The boat had passed safely through the first stretch of timber lands, and was now floating over a broad reach of open plantation country. But the fog was gone now, and, as there was woodland in sight a few miles farther on in the direction in which the current was carrying them, Phil and his friends felt that their respite was likely to be a brief one.

He relieved Ed at the pump, and ordered him to rest. But the boy protested that he was still fresh, and would have worked on if Phil had permitted. Even in this time of danger and hurried effort, Phil could not help thinking how greatly his brother’s health and strength had improved.

“Ed’s getting well,” he said to Irv, as the two tugged at the pump.

“Yes,” rejoined the tall fellow; “a month ago he couldn’t have done such work as this to save his life.”

“And twenty-four hours of such a fog as we’ve been through would have killed him to a certainty. Now he doesn’t even cough.”

A little later, as the boat began floating more steadily, Phil called out:—

“Go below, Ed, and see how much water is in the hold.”

Ed’s report convinced the young captain that the leaks were at least not gaining upon the pumps. An hour later, the boat having become quite steady again, Phil found that the pumps were gaining on the water, which by that time did not rise above the flooring.

The boat had by this time passed again into a forest, and, while the current was now a steady one, it was still very strong. Phil considered the situation carefully, and decided upon his course of action.

“Take a line in a skiff, Will, and pass it once around a tree, then run off with the end of it and hold on, letting it slip as slowly as possible on the tree till the boat comes to a halt. Then make fast.”

To the others he explained:—

“We must check her speed gradually. In such a current as this to stop her suddenly would sling her against some tree like a whip cracker.”

Then he turned to Irv, and said, “Take another line, and do the same thing on another tree.”

By the time that Irv pushed off in his skiff Will had got his line in place around a tree, and had rowed away fifty yards with the end of it. As it tightened, the rope began slipping on the tree, dragging the skiff toward it. Phil called to Will:—

“Don’t get hurt, Will! Let go your rope when you are dragged nearly to the tree.”

Will did so just in time to save himself from an ugly collision, but his efforts had considerably checked the flatboat’s speed, and by the time he let go the line Irv had the other rope around a tree and was repeating the operation. This second line brought the boat to a standstill, and under Phil’s direction she was securely made fast both bow and stern, so that she could not swing about in any direction.