No. The current, split into two, swirls past
the obstruction with a perfectly resistless force. He is swept out
again as his fingers come within an inch of grasping a projecting stone.
Then he--both of them--are whirled over and over in the surging boil of
the rapids--the brink is in front--space.

Then it seems to Gerard that he is upholding the weight of the whole
world. For a most wonderful thing has happened. The native is
perfectly stationary--still as though anchored--in the resistless
velocity of the current, and now it seems to be his turn to support his
would-be rescuer. For the latter's legs are actually hanging forth over
the fearful abyss, and but for the firm grip--now of both hands--which
he has upon the other's arm, he would be shot out into space. The roar
and vibration of the mighty fall is bewildering, maddening--the crash
upon the rocks, the spuming mist flying away into countless rainbows
before his sight. He seems to live a lifetime in that one fearful
moment. He must loose his hold and--

"Here, mister! I'm going to throw you a _reim_. Can you catch it?"

Gerard hardly dares so much as nod an affirmative. He sees as in a
dream a couple of bearded faces on the bank above, the owner of one of
which is swinging a long, noosed cord of twisted raw hide.

"All right! Now--catch!"

Swish! The noose flies out, then straightens. It falls on Gerard's
shoulder. Loosening one hand, he quickly passes it round his body. It
is hauled taut.

"Now--leave go the nigger. He's all right. He's anchored."

Instinctively Gerard obeys, and swings free. For a second he is hanging
on the smooth, glassy, curling lip of the fall. Should the reim break--
But it is staunch. He is drawn slowly up against the current, and
hauled safely to land.

The native, deprived of Gerard's support, is seen to be thrown, as it
were, with his face downward on the current. Something is holding him
back, something which has him fast by the legs; but for it, he would be
shot out over the falls. He shouts something in his own language.

"By jingo! It's just as I said," exclaims one of the men. "He's
anchored."

"Anchored?" wonderingly echoes Gerard, who, beyond being very much out
of breath, is none the worse for his narrow escape.

"Yes, anchored. He says he's got a lot of _reims_ and truck tangled
round his legs, and it's hitched in something at the bottom of the
river. That's what's holding him back; and