by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XIII.
NEAR UNTO DEATH.
Although I was abundantly able to take care of myself in the water, andeven to do a little more than that, I was really afraid to approach SimGwynn, he struggled so violently. I was satisfied, if I did so, that hewould swamp me as well as himself. We were both floating down the streamwith the current, and all the chances seemed to be against us.
Sim had struggled till his strength was in a measure wasted. I saw thathe was going down again, and though I feared it would cost me my ownlife, I decided to grapple with him. A couple of strokes with my armsbrought me to him, and I seized him by the collar. The moment he wasconscious of the presence of something near him, he began to strugglemore violently than ever. He threw his arms tight around my body, andhugged me in what I thought would be the death-gripe.
Vainly I tried to shake him off. The more I labored, the closer he clungto me, as if fearful that I should escape his grasp. I believed that mylast moment had come. I gave myself up in despair, and thought ofFlora--what would become of her. I asked God to forgive all mysins--which seemed like a mountain to me in that awful moment.
I rested but an instant while these thoughts rushed through my brain. Ifelt myself going down. It was useless to do so, I felt; but I could nothelp making one more struggle for the boon of life. It would have beenuseless if a kind Providence had not come to my aid, for my strength wasnearly exhausted, and I was utterly inadequate to the task of bearing upthe heavy burden of my companion.
My head struck against a log, one end of which had grounded on theshore, while the other projected out over the deep water of the stream.I clutched it, threw my arms around it, and hugged it as though it wasthe dearest friend on earth. I threw myself across it, so as to bringSim's head out of the water, and waited to recover my wasted breath.Our united weight on the end of the log detached it from the shore, andwe were again floating down the stream. I clung to my support; and sucha sweet rest as that was I had never before known. The life seemed tocome back to me, and every breath of air I drew in was a fountain ofstrength to my frame.
Still Sim clung to me, and appeared not to know that there was anythingelse to sustain him. As my powers came back to me, I drew myself fartherup on the log, and tried to release my body from the gripe of mysenseless companion.
"Sim!" I shouted.
He did not answer me. Was he dead? I trembled at the thought.
"Sim!" I cried again, louder than before.
"Ugh!" said he, with a shudder that thrilled my frame.
He was not dead, or even wholly unconscious. With one arm hugging thelog, I tried with the other to release myself from his bearish gripe.
"Let go of me, Sim!" I screamed to him.
But he would not, or could not. After a desperate effort, I succeeded inthrowing one of my legs over the log; and, thus supported, I foundmyself better able to work efficiently. With a mighty struggle, I shookhim off, and he would have gone to the bottom if I had not seized hishand as he threw it up. I placed his arm on the log, and he grappledwith it as though it had been a monster threatening his destruction.
After pausing a moment to rest, I pulled him farther up on the log.Then, for the first time, I felt safe. The battle had been fought, andwon. I believed Sim had lost his senses. He was stupefied, rather thandeprived of any actual power. It was the terror rather than any realinjury which overcame him. I permitted him to remain quiet for a moment,to recover his breath.
"Sim!" said I, when he began to look around him, and show some signs ofreturning reason.
"Ugh! That's what I wanted to see you for, Buck," gasped he.
I could not laugh, though his wild stare and incoherent words wereludicrous.
"You are safe now, Sim," I added.
"I'm dead--drownded."
"No, you are not. You are safe."
"No! Am I? Hookie!"
I had placed myself astride the log, and was now in a comfortableposition. I moved up to him, when I found it was safe to approach him,and assisted him into an easier posture. Gradually I restored him to hisformer self, and finally assured him that he was still in the land ofthe living, where he might remain if he would only be reasonable.
"Where are we going to?" he asked.
"Down the river."
"Down to New Orleans?"
"Not yet, if you will behave like a man. Have a little pluck, Sim."
"I dassent!" replied he, with a shake of his frame.
"Now hold on tight! I'm going to try to get ashore," I called to him, asI saw that the current would carry us under the overhanging branch of atree, which I could reach by making a strong effort.
"Don't leave me, Buck!" pleaded he, in his terror.
"I won't leave you. Cling to the log," I replied, as I jumped up, andsucceeded in grasping the branch of the tree.
I pulled it down till I got hold of a part strong enough to check theprogress of the log; but the current was so swift that I was nearlydragged from it. By twining my legs around the log, I held on till itsmomentum was overcome; and then I had no difficulty in drawing it intill the end touched the shore. After much persuasion I induced Sim towork himself along the stick till he reached the dry land; for we hadpassed beyond the greatest depression in the swamp, where the stream didnot cover the banks.
Eagerly he passed from the log to the bank, and actually danced with joywhen he found himself once more on the solid earth.
"Hookie! Hookie!" shouted he, opening his mouth from ear to ear, whilehis fat face lighted up with an expression of delight, like a baby witha new rattle.
"Are you going to let me go down stream, Sim?" I called to him,reproachfully, for he seemed to have more regard for his own safety thanfor mine.
"What shall I do?" he asked, blankly; and he appeared to have an ideathat I could not possibly need any assistance from him.
"Catch hold of the end of the log, and haul it up so that I can getashore. If I let go the branch, the log will go down stream again."
Sim lifted the log, and hauled it far out of the water. He was as strongas an ox now, though he had been as weak as an infant a few momentsbefore. I crawled up the stick, and went ashore. The moment I was fairlyon the land, Sim threw his arms around my neck, and hugged me as thoughI had been his baby, blubbering in incoherent terms his gratitude andlove.
"Hold on, Sim! You have hugged me enough for one day," said I, shakinghim off.
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted he.
"Silence, Sim," I added.
I threw myself on my knees, dripping with water as I was.
"O Lord God, I thank thee for saving my life, and for saving Sim's life.In my heart I thank thee, O Lord. May it be a good lesson to him and me.May we both try to be better boys, and obey thy holy law as we havenever done before."
I had never prayed before in my life, but I could not help it then. Ifelt that God had saved my life, and that I could not be so wicked asnot to pray to him then. My heart was full of gratitude, and I felt thebetter for speaking it.
I opened my eyes, and saw Sim kneeling before me, very reverently, and Irealized that he was as sincere as I was. He was not satisfied withhearing. He uttered a prayer himself, using nearly my own words. Hefinished, and both of us were silent for several minutes. However long Imay live, I shall never forget the agony of that fearful moment, when,with Sim clinging to me, I felt myself going down, never to come up;never to see the light of the blessed sun again; never more to look intothe eyes of my loving sister. The influence of that thrilling incidentwill go with me to the end of my days, and I am sure it has made me abetter man.
We walked through the swamp to the open prairie beyond, where the sunshone brightly. We took off our clothes, and wrung them out, and thenlay in the sunshine to dry them. We talked of the event of theafternoon, and Sim, in his bungling speech, poured forth his gratitudeto me for saving his life. I staid there till it was time for me to goback to the house. My clothes were still wet, and I crept through theback entry up to my chamber and ch
anged them. Squire Fishley was goinghome that day, and was to ride down to Riverport with me.
I was sorry he was going, for during his visit our house seemed to be aparadise. Mrs. Fishley was all smiles, and never spoke a cross word,never snarled at Flora or at me. If the squire had been a steady boarderat his brother's, I should have been content to cut my raft adrift, andlet it go down the river without me. He was going home, and there wouldbe a storm as soon as he departed.
During the week of the senator's stay, not a word was said about MissLarrabee's letter; and Ham appeared about the same as usual. I observedhis movements with interest and curiosity. Sometimes I thought he wasmore troubled than was his habit. After the thrashing his father hadgiven me, he seemed to be satisfied that I had been "paid off," and hewas tolerably civil to me, though I concluded that he did not wish tohave any more difficulty during the visit of the distinguished guest.
After supper, with my passenger, I drove down to Riverport. On the wayhe talked very kindly to me, and gave me much good advice. He counselledme to "seek the Lord," who would give me strength to bear all mytroubles. He told me he had spoken to his brother about me, but he wasafraid he had done more harm than good, for the captain did not seem tolike it that I had said anything to the guest about my ill usage.
I bade him good by at the hotel, where he was to spend the night; and weparted the best of friends, with a promise on his part to do somethingfor me in the future. After changing the mail-bags at the post-office, Iwent to several stores, and picked up various articles to furnish thehouse on the raft, including a small second-hand cook-stove, with eightfeet of pipe, for which I paid four dollars, and a few dishes and sometable ware.
I succeeded in placing these things in the wheelbarrow, back of thebarn, without detection. Early in the morning Sim wheeled them down tothe swamp. When I joined him after breakfast, I found he had wadedthrough the water to the branch, and brought up the small raft, uponwhich he had loaded the stove and other articles. Before noon that day,the outside of the house was done, and the cook-stove put up. I wenthome to dinner as usual, that my absence might not be noticed.
"Where have you been all the forenoon?" demanded Captain Fishley, in themost uncompromising of tones.
The storm was brewing.