The excitement of this scene was very great, and Rollo's first impulse was to scream for help; but observing how cool and collected Gerald appeared, he felt somewhat reassured, and at once obeyed Gerald's orders. He took in his oar, and holding it in his hands, as if it had been a boat hook or a setting pole, he prepared to fend off from the piers when the boat went through. In the mean time Gerald had succeeded in getting the boat round, so as to point the bows down stream, just as she reached the bridge; and in this position she shot under it like an arrow. Several boys who were standing on the bridge at this time, after watching at the upper side till the boat went under, ran across to the lower side, to see her come out.
The boat passed through the bridge safely, though the stern struck against the pier on one side, just as it was emerging. The reason of this was, that Gerald, in bringing it round so as to head down the stream, had given it a rotating motion, which continued while it was passing under the bridge, and thus brought the stern round against the pier. No harm was done, however, except that the boat received a rather rude concussion by the blow.
"Now, boys," said Gerald, speaking in French, "we must keep her head and stern up and down the stream, or we shall make shipwreck."
"Yes," said Rollo, in English; "if we should strike a snag or any thing, broadside on, the boat would roll right over."
"A snag!" repeated Gerald, contemptuously. The idea was indeed absurd of finding a snag in the River Rhone; for a snag is formed by a floating tree, which is washed into the river by the undermining of the banks, and is then carried down until it gets lodged. There are millions of such trees in the Mississippi, but none in the Rhone.
However, Rollo was right in his general idea. There might be obstructions of some sort in the river, which it would be dangerous for the boat to encounter broadside on; so he took hold resolutely of the work of helping Gerald bring it into a position parallel with the direction of the stream. In the mean time the boat was swept down the torrent with fearful rapidity. It glided swiftly on amid boiling whirlpools and sheets of rippling foam, that were quite frightful to see. The buildings of the town here bordered the banks of the river on each side, and there were little jutting piers and platforms here and there, with boys upon them in some places, fishing, and women washing clothes in others. The boys in the boat did not call for help, and so nobody attempted to come and help them. Gerald's plan was to keep the boat headed right, and so let her drift on until she had passed through the town, in hopes of being able to bring her up somewhere on the shore below.
At one time the force of the current carried them quite near to the shore, at a place where Gerald thought it would be dangerous to attempt to land, and he called out aloud to Rollo to "fend off." Rollo attempted to do so, and in the attempt he lost his oar. He was standing near the bows at the time, and as he planted his oar against the bottom, the current carried the boat on with such irresistible impetuosity that the oar was wrested from his hand in an instant. If he had not let go of it he would have been pulled over himself. Gerald, however, had the presence of mind to reach out his own oar at once, and draw the lost one back towards the boat, so that the Swiss boy seized it, and, to Rollo's great joy, took it in again.
The boat at one time came very near drifting against one of the great water wheels which were revolving in the stream. Gerald perceived the danger just in time, and he contrived to turn the head of the boat out towards the centre of the river, and then commanding Rollo and the Swiss boy to row, and pulling, himself, with all his force, he just succeeded in escaping the danger.
By this time the boat had passed by the town, and it now came to a part of the river which was bordered by smooth, grassy banks on each side, and with a row of willows growing near the margin of the water. This was the place, in fact, where Rollo had walked along the shore with his mother, in going down to visit the junction of the Rhone and the Arve.
"Now," said Gerald, "here is a chance for us to make a landing. I'll head her in towards the shore."
So Gerald turned the head of the boat in towards the bank, and then, by dint of hard rowing, the boys contrived gradually to draw nearer and nearer to the shore, though they were all the time drifting rapidly down. At last the boat came so near that the bow was just ready to touch the bank, and then Gerald seized the painter, and, watching his opportunity, leaped ashore, and, running to the nearest willow, wound the painter round it. This at once checked the motion of the bow, and caused the stern to swing round. Gerald immediately unwound the painter, and ran to the willow next below, where he wound it round again, and there succeeded at last in making it fast, and stopping the motion of the boat altogether. Rollo and the Swiss boy then made their escape safe to land.
"There!" said Rollo, taking at the same time a high jump, to express his exultation; "there! Here we are safe, and who cares?"
"Ah!" said Gerald, calmly; "it is very easy to say Who cares? now that we have got safe to land; but you'll find me looking out sharp not to get sucked into those ripples again."
So the boys went home. Gerald found a man to go down and bring back the boat, while Rollo proceeded to the hotel, to report the affair to his father and mother. Mrs. Holiday was very much alarmed, but Mr. Holiday seemed to take the matter quite coolly. He said he thought that Rollo was now, for all the rest of his life, in much less danger of being drowned by getting carried down rapids in a river than he was before.
"He understands the subject now somewhat practically," said Mr. Holiday.
The term of Mr. Holiday's visit had now expired, and the arrangements were to be made for leaving town, with a view of returning again to Paris. Rollo, however, was very desirous that before going back to Paris they should make at least a short excursion among the mountains.
"Where shall we go?" said his father.
"To the valley of Chamouni," said Rollo. "They say that that is the prettiest place in all Switzerland."
"How long will it take us to go?" asked Mr. Holiday.
"We can go in a day," said Rollo. "There are plenty of diligences. The offices of them are here all along the quay.
"Or, if you don't choose to go so far in a day," continued Rollo, "you can go in half a day to the entrance of the valley, where there is a good place to stop, and then we can go to Chamouni the next day. I have studied it all out in the guide book."
"Very well," said Mr. Holiday. "It seems that we can get into the valley of Chamouni very easily; and now how is it about getting out?"
At this question Rollo's countenance fell a little, and he replied that it was not so easy to get out.
"There is no way to get out," said he, "except to go over the mountains, unless we come back the same way we go in."
"That would not be quite so pleasant," said Mr. Holiday.
"No, sir," said Rollo; "it would be better to go out some new way. But there is not any way. It is a long, narrow valley, very high up among the mountain glaciers. There is a way to get out at the upper end, but it is only a mountain pass, and we should have to ride over on mules. But you could ride on a mule-could not you, father?"
"Why, yes," said Mr. Holiday, "perhaps I could; but it might be too fatiguing for your mother. She has not been accustomed to ride on horseback much of late years.
"Besides," he continued, "I suppose that as it is a mountain pass, the road must be pretty steep and difficult."
"Yes, sir," said Rollo; "it is steep some part of the way. You have to go up for half an hour by zigzags-right up the side of the mountain. I read about it in the guide book. Then, after we get up to the top of the pass, we have a monstrous long way to go down. We have to go down for two hours, as steep as we can go."