eature being whirled down to a most horrible death right before
his eyes. Again that wild harsh cry for help rang out above the
seething hiss of the flood and the dull roar of the cataract below, but
shorter, more gaspingly. The man was nearly exhausted. He was swimming
curiously too. It seemed as if he was treading water; then his head
would sink half under, as though something were dragging him down.
Gerard had heard there were crocodiles in the Umgeni. Could it be that
the unfortunate man had been seized by one of these? The thought was a
terrible one; but he could not see the man perish. In a trice he had
kicked off his boots and thrown off his coat, and urging his horse into
the river till the depth of the water swept the animal off its legs, he
threw himself from its back, for it had become unmanageable with fright,
and struck out for the drowning man.

The latter was about thirty yards below him, and hardly thrice that
distance from the brink. Gerard was a bold and powerful swimmer, and
with the aid of the current was beside him in a moment. But what to do
next? The upper part of the man's body was entirely naked. There was
nothing to lay hold of him by. But the cool self-possession of the
savage met him halfway. The latter gasped out a word or two in his own
language and held out his arm. Gerard seized it firmly below the
shoulder, and, using no more effort than was just necessary for the
other's support, he husbanded his strength for the final struggle.

Now, all this had taken place in a mere moment of time. It would take
no more than that to decide their fate. And this seemed sealed.

For all his hard condition and desperate pluck, Gerard felt strength and
nerve alike well-nigh fail him. The native was a fearful weight,
heavier even than one of his size ought to be, and he was not a small
man. They were now in the roar and swirl of the rapids. Once or twice
Gerard's foot touched ground, only to be swept off again resistlessly,
remorselessly. Several times he thought he must relax his grasp and
leave the other to his fate. He could see the smooth glitter of the
glassy hump where the river curled over the brink; could feel the
vibration of the appalling boom on the rocks below. In a second he--
both of them--would be crashed down on to those rocks, a thousand
shapeless fragments, unless, that is, he could secure a footing upon the
spit of stony islet in front.

A yard more will do it.