"Night is fast approaching," remarked Arend. "If Hendrik does not return before night, I shall swim after him."
"Yes, we may as well, while we have the strength to do it," answered Willem. "If you go, so will I. We shall start together. How long do you think we should wait?"
"Not much longer. Certainly within a mile, he ought to have found a place where he could land. That distance he must soon have made, at the rate he was travelling when he left us. He should return soon now, or never."
Another hour pa.s.sed and still no signs of Hendrik.
"Remain you, Willem," proposed Arend, "and let me go alone."
"No," replied the great hunter; "we go together. I once thought that I should never abandon my gun as long as I lived; but it must be. We must not stay here any longer. I grow weaker every hour."
The two were taking off their boots and preparing to enter the water, when their ears were saluted by the sound of a familiar voice.
Congo was seen upon horseback on the bank of the river, just opposite the rock.
"Nebber fear, baas Willem," shouted he. "I come back by-"m-by."
As he said this, he galloped away. The loud roar of an elephant proclaiming the cause of his sudden departure.
"O heavens!" exclaimed Arend. "How much longer must we stay here?"
"Until to-morrow, I expect," answered Willem. "Congo cannot return to the camp and be back before to-morrow."
"But do you think he will go off without trying to a.s.sist us?"
"Yes. What can he do alone? Nothing. He knows that, and has gone for help. Of himself, he could not kill the elephant; and even if it was not there, he could do nothing to get us off the rock."
"The distance to the bank must be about twenty yards. Of course there is a way by which we may be got ash.o.r.e; but it will require a rope. The climbing plants would do, but Congo has not noticed them. I believe that he understood at a glance the difficulties to be overcome, and has gone to the camp for a.s.sistance."
"I hope so," replied Arend, "and, if such be the case, we need not fear for ourselves. We have now only to endure the annoyance of waiting. My only anxiety is for Hendrik."
Willem made no reply, but by his silence Arend could perceive that he had but little hope of ever seeing Hendrik gain.
Slowly the sun went down and the night once more descended over the rolling river. Their anxiety would not allow them to sleep, even had they not been hindered by hunger. Of water they had a plentiful supply,--too much of it,--although this was not obtained without some difficulty, as they had to dip it up in one of their powder-flasks, emptied for the purpose.
Another morning dawned, and the sun made his appearance,--again red and fiery,--his beams becoming fiercer as he ascended the cloudless sky.
They had but a few hours more to wait until they might expect the return of the Kaffir; but would he surely come? They knew that travelling in Africa was a very uncertain business. Their present position was proof that some accident might occur to hinder him from reaching the camp.
By this time they were almost certain that some serious misfortune, perhaps death itself, had befallen Hendrik.
As if to confirm them in this belief, just then three large crocodiles were seen swimming around the rock, lingering there, as though they expected ere long to get their sharp teeth into the flesh of those who stood upon it.
The great hunter became angered at the sight. It suggested the probable fate of their companion, as it might, in time, be their own. He seized hold of his roer, and, drawing the damp charge, freshly loaded the gun.
Aiming at the eye of one of the hideous monsters, he pulled trigger.
The loud report was followed by a heavy plunging in the water, and the behaviour of the crocodile gave evidence of the correctness of the hunter"s aim.
After springing bodily above the surface, it fell back again, and commenced spinning around, with a velocity that threw showers of spray over those, who stood watching its death-struggles.
Its two companions retreated down the river, and, as the brothers saw them depart, the thoughts of both were dwelling upon the same subject.
Both were thinking of Hendrik! We also must go down stream, and see what has become of him.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
FROM BAD TO WORSE.
On finding himself in the water as he parted from his companions, Hendrik had not much exertion to make.
A gentle motion of the limbs sustained him on the surface, and he was borne onward with a velocity that promised a speedy termination of his voyage.
Some place must soon be reached where the banks would be low enough to be ascended, and the current not too quick to hinder him from crossing to the sh.o.r.e. He was spirited past several rocks, one of which he only avoided with great difficulty, so swiftly did the current carry him along.
When about a mile from his companions, as he supposed himself, he saw that the banks on both sides were shelving and he tried to reach the sh.o.r.e.
The current was still rapid as ever, and for each foot made in the direction of the land, he was borne several yards down the channel of the stream.
The velocity with which he was moving awoke in his mind a vague sense of a danger not thought of before starting, and altogether different from those that had been taken into calculation. His voyage, so far, had been successful. He had escaped unharmed by rocks or crocodiles; but he had evidence that a danger, as much, if not more to be dreaded, now threatened him. The water seemed gliding down an inclined plane, so rapidly was it sweeping him on; and beyond this, directly before him, he could hear the roaring of a cataract! What had been at first only a conjecture, soon became a certainty. He was going at arrow-like speed towards the brow of a waterfall. Throwing all his energies into the effort, he struggled to reach the sh.o.r.e at a point where the bank was accessible.
He had nearly succeeded. Ten feet nearer, and he would have been able to grasp the o"erhanging bushes. But that distance, little as it was, could not be accomplished, and on he glided towards the engulfing fall.
On the brink of the water-precipice he saw the sharp point of a rock jutting about three feet above the water. More by good luck, than any guidance on his part, he came within reach of it as he was hurried onward. Reaching out, he caught hold; and hugging it with both arms, he was able to retain his hold. His body was swung around to the leeward of the rock, until his legs hung dangling over the fall. Although the force of the current was partly broken by the interposition of the rock, it required him to exert all his strength to save himself from being washed over. After a time, he succeeded in gaining a footing. There was a little ledge on the rock just large enough for one foot, while the other sought support on the pointed apex. To have attempted to swim ash.o.r.e could only end in his destruction. Though almost within leaping distance of the bank, he had no place to spring from, and to have fallen short, would have been fatal. He could do nothing but remain as he was.
Hours pa.s.sed, and the torture of standing in one position irksome at that, became unbearable. He could only obtain rest by getting into the water again and hugging the rock with both arms as he had done before.
But this method of resting himself, if such it could be called, could not be endured longer than two or three minutes, and he was compelled soon to return to the upright att.i.tude.
"There is not the least danger of crocodiles here," thought he while in the water hanging on to the rock. "Should one pa.s.s this way, it would not have time for touching me, even if it were starving." All night long did he continue in this dread position.
Morning dawned, and once more he had to endure the agony of gazing on the bank within a few feet of where he stood, though as unapproachable as if miles of moving water separated him from it.
Fortune seemed determined to torture him to the last extreme.
There was no hope of his gaining the bank above, and it now occurred to him to look below. Craning out as far as he could, he made an inspection of the fall. It was about thirty feet in clear descent.
Below, the water ran frothing away and soon became smooth and tranquil, as if reposing after the violent leap.
Should he allow himself to be carried over the cataract? This was the question he now commenced considering. If he could only have a.s.sured himself that there was deep water underneath, he would at once have decided to commit himself to the descent. But there was the probability that he might be precipitated upon jagged rocks, and of course killed by the fall. Besides, he saw that the banks below were steep on both sides, and he might have to swim for a long distance before being able to land. After a descent of thirty feet he might be incapable of continuing above the surface of the water. At all events, he would be in no condition for a long swim.
After long and earnestly debating the question in his own mind he gave up the thought of making the too perilous attempt.
Notwithstanding the agony arising from his own position, he was not free from concern for his comrades left upon the rock.
Willem and Arend would in all likelihood come after him, if they had not already done so. One or the other, or both, might have left the rock and been carried over the cataract in the night, unseen by him during the darkness.
As the time pa.s.sed on, his sufferings approached the point of despair.
They at length became so great that once or twice was he tempted to put a termination to them by giving his body to the cataract, and his soul to Him who had bestowed it. But this demon of temptation was driven out of his mind by a mental vision of angelic loveliness.