Once more the hissing of the water began among the buried limbs, and
once more the snag rolled ominously, and then lay still, its giant,
naked trunk, white and half submerged, reaching up stream fifty feet
above us. We were apparently as far from safety as ever, although almost
within touch of shore.
It occurred to me that as I had been able to touch bottom on the other
bar, I might do so here. I crawled back along the trunk of the snag to a
place as near the roots as I could reach, and letting myself down
gently, found that I could keep my footing on the sand.
"Look out there! boy," cried Auberry to me. "This river's dangerous. If
it takes you down, swim for the shore. Don't try to get back here." We
could see that the set of the current below ran close inshore, although
doubtless the water there was very deep.
Little by little I edged up the stream, and found presently that the
water shoaled toward the heap of driftwood. It dropped off, I know not
how deep, between the edge of the bar and the piled drift; but standing
no more than waist deep; I could reach the outer limbs of the drift and
saw that they would support my weight. After that I waded back to the
snag carefully, and once more ordered the young woman to come to me.
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