Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat Read Free Book Online Page A

clear. He struggled for his very life against the suction of the undertow, and a few moments later he was flung over a ledge and down into an eddy where he bobbed about until he could regain his breath. Then the whirlpool carried him shoreward, flung him into a side current, and left him sprawling in the shallows of a backwater beside the bank. He was badly bruised and bleeding from a dozen deep rock cuts. But he was alive and conscious.
    His first thought was for Jamie. Getting to his knees, he turned toward the thundering river and spotted Jamie floating face up in the backwater. Forcing his shaking legs to carry him, Awasin waded out, grasped Jamie by the hair and hauled him part way up the beach.
    Driven by an instinct for self-preservation that not even the stunning suddenness of the accident could dull, Awasin turned back to where the shattered hulk of the canoe hung poised upon a fang of rock on the outer edge of the whirlpool. At any instant it might slip free and vanish into the rapids below. In it lay the only hope of life for them, and Awasin knew it. Waves of pain and nausea swept over him, but doggedly he once more waded into the water.
    The current sucked at his trembling legs. He lost his balance as he reached for the canoe. One hand clutched the broken gunwale of the vessel, and he dragged himself up to it. From then on it was a struggle of sheer will power against the brute power of the river. In a daze he fought, inch by inch, toward the shore while the waterlogged canoe tugged and hauled away from him. Several times he lost his foothold and both he and the canoe swung back toward the fatal journey. Each time he managed to arrest the progress in the nick of time. At last he felt the canoe grate against the shore. Dizziness overwhelmed him. He stumbled forward on his knees—and fainted dead away.

 

    CHAPTER 8
    Alone in the Wilderness
    H IGH ABOVE THE RAPIDS A HAWK soared over a darkening world.
    Suddenly he folded his wings and came gliding downward in a plunging flight that ended barely a dozen yards above the churning surface of the rapid. With wings spread wide and tail expanded like a fan, the bird checkedhis drop and sailed across the river. Curiously he stared down at two figures lying half on shore, and half in the water. They showed no sign of life, but the hawk nevertheless took alarm. Opening his hooked beak he screamed shrilly, then beat his way inland, gaining height until he became only a faint speck in the distant sky.
    The cry of the hawk pierced to Jamie’s mind through the haze of unconsciousness. He stirred. Shivering, he drew himself clear of the frigid water. A sharp spasm of pain shot through him as he drew his right leg up on shore. With sudden terror, he saw the roaring rapids and the smashed hulk of the canoe.
    He tried to scramble to his feet but the pain in his leg was like a burning knife, and he fell back groaning.
    â€œAwasin!” he cried frantically. “Awasin! Answer me!”
    Hidden from Jamie by a ledge of rock, Awasin lay only a few feet away. Jamie’s shouts roused him and he stood up dizzily. His head, bloody from a cut above the eye, appeared over the edge of the rock.
    â€œWhat are you yelling for?” he asked almost peevishly.
    Then he grinned, and limped stiffly around the rock to his friend’s side. “You didn’t think a rapid could drown me , did you?” he asked. “Why, I’m half fish. And you must be half muskrat—you were underwater long enough to grow webs between your toes! But the old canoe isn’t going to swim any more.”
    The casual way he spoke, and the relief at seeing him still alive, raised Jamie’s spirits. But the mention of the canoe brought him back to earth.
    â€œWhat’ll we do?” he asked anxiously. “I think maybe my leg’s broken. It hurts like fury. And if the canoe’s smashed, how’ll we get out of this?”
    Fear and hopelessness, combined with the