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Updated: June 1, 2025
But Iberville, as cries of warning and appeal rang out around him, the drowning lad had not cried out at all, sprang into the water. Not alone. The abbe looked around him, made the sacred gesture, and then sprang also into an eddy a distance below, and at an angle made his way up towards the two. Priest though he was, he was also an expert river-man, and his vast strength served him royally.
"He will follow underneath;" and reaching up, tie went hand over hand, using his toes very much like fingers to help. Then he lowered a rope which he had coiled round his waist; and Mr. Hume, putting the loop under his arm, trusted his weight to the swaying vine. Venning and Compton followed, with the help of the rope, but the river-man declined.
The long velvety tread of the camel, the song of the camel-driver, the monotonous chant of the river-man, with fingers mechanically falling on his little drum, the cry of the eagle of the Libyan Hills, the lap of the heavy waters of the Dead Sea down by Jericho, the battle-call of the Druses beyond Damascus, the lonely gigantic figures at the mouth of the temple of Abou Simbel, looking out with the eternal question to the unanswering desert, the delicate ruins of moonlit Baalbec, with the snow mountains hovering above, the green oases, and the deep wells where the caravans lay down in peace all these were pouring their influences on his mind in the little Quaker village of Hamley where life was so bare, so grave.
The long velvety tread of the camel, the song of the camel-driver, the monotonous chant of the river-man, with fingers mechanically falling on his little drum, the cry of the eagle of the Libyan Hills, the lap of the heavy waters of the Dead Sea down by Jericho, the battle-call of the Druses beyond Damascus, the lonely gigantic figures at the mouth of the temple of Abou Simbel, looking out with the eternal question to the unanswering desert, the delicate ruins of moonlit Baalbec, with the snow mountains hovering above, the green oases, and the deep wells where the caravans lay down in peace all these were pouring their influences on his mind in the little Quaker village of Hamley where life was so bare, so grave.
The hunter turned his calm eyes on the wild river-man. "Chief of one." "Of one or none, it does not matter, great one; since to be chief is to do what is best." "Your plans are your own. Consider. If we go, we will do nothing to spoil those plans; but, in the end, if you want help to rescue the wise woman your mother then we will be ready to help you."
Hume unhooked a steel chain from his belt, with a knife attached, and offered it to the little man, who, at a word from Muata, grabbed at it, and, after a minute inspection, hung it round his neck. Muata said a few more words to the new guide, then, lifting his hand, gave the farewell salutation to his friends, and disappeared with the silent river-man.
"I used to think if I could ever be in that young fellow's place, I would be the biggest man on earth," remarked a veteran river-man. Like thousands of others along the Mississippi and Ohio, he remembered that when a child he could recognize the Champion a mile distant by this unique signal.
When I stumbled on to that chap in the cage yonder, what Captain Bird admires so, I knew right off he wasn't what I was after. But the queer thing was that he didn't seem to feel that way about me. He was after me before I had time to think of anything jest suitable to the occasion." "Where in thunder was yer gun?" demanded the river-man. "That was jest the trouble!" answered Toomey.
Again she felt his arm harden threateningly under her startled clasp as a red-headed and very drunk river-man lurched out of a doorway ahead of them; with breath softly audible between arched lips she tried to recall the gentleness of his hands when he was refastening her cloak beneath her rigidly upflung chin.
There was an air of dignity about him as he said: "Dere's plenty t'ing in dis worl' we don' get pay' for. You didn't 'spect no pay yesterday when you run de W'ite 'Orse for save dis gal an' her papa, did you? No. Wal, I'm woodsman, river-man; I ain't dam' stampeder. Dis is my countree, we're frien's together long tam; I love it an' it loves me.
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