casting a look over his
shoulder. He was hugging the Berkshire side himself, as the other
skiff passed him, and thought he heard the sculler say something
about keeping out, and minding the small lasher; but the noise of
the waters and his own desperate efforts prevented his heeding,
or, indeed, hearing the warning plainly. In another minute,
however, he heard plainly enough most energetic shouts behind him
and, turning his head over his right shoulder, saw the man who
had just passed him backing his skiff rapidly up stream towards
him. The next moment he felt the bows of his boat whirl round,
the old tub grounded for a moment, and then, turning over on her
side, shot him out on to the planking of the steep descent into
the small lasher. He grasped at the boards, but they were too
slippery to hold, and the rush of water was too strong for him,
and rolling him over and over like a piece of driftwood, plunged
him into the pool below.

After the first moment of astonishment and fright was over, Tom
left himself to the stream, holding his breath hard, and paddling
gently with his hands, feeling sure that, if he could only hold
on, he should come to the surface sooner or later; which
accordingly happened after a somewhat lengthy submersion.

His first impulse on rising to the surface, after catching his
breath, was to strike out for the shore, but, in the act of doing
so, he caught sight of the other skiff coming stern foremost down
the decent after him, and he trod the water and drew in his
breath to watch. Down she came, as straight as an arrow, into the
tumult below; the sculler sitting upright, and holding his sculls
steadily in the water. For a moment she seemed to be going under,
but righted herself, and glided swiftly into the still water; and
then the sculler cast a hasty and anxious glance around, till his
eyes rested on our hero's half-drowned head.

"Oh, there you are!" he said, looking much relieved; "all right,
I hope. Not hurt, eh?"

"No, thankee; all right, I believe," answered Tom. "What shall I
do?"

"Swim ashore; I'll look after your boat." So Tom took the advice,
swam ashore, and there stood dripping and watching the other as
he righted the old tub which was floating quietly bottom upwards,
little the worse for the mishap, and no doubt, if boats can wish,
earnestly desiring in her wooden mind to be allowed to go quietly
to pieces then and there, sooner to be rescued than be again
entrusted to the