“I sure wish Hap would get here,” Jack declared, casting an uneasy glance back toward the darkening crags. “No chance for a few hours.”
“Pedro’s safe enough on the ledge, but we’ve got to get down to him. You’ll have to lower me on the rope.”
“We’ll worry about that later. It’s no good trying to make camp on this side of the stream. Too exposed. If an attack should come, we’d have no protection whatsoever.”
“We’ve lost most of our supplies,” Jack said grimly. “This finishes us, even if Pedro isn’t in a bad way.”
The fading sunlight, splashing on the great rocks, transformed them into glowing fire. But the two Scouts had no thought for the splendor of the scenery.
Working feverishly against darkness, Jack managed to lower Ken to the rock shelf above the stream. He provided first aid, and made a crude splint for Pedro’s leg which had a cracked bone.
Then Ken called excitedly that he could see a balsa raft made of logs, hidden in a clump of bushes close by.
“If I can get Pedro onto the balsa, we can ferry downstream where we can make camp,” he called up to Jack. “It’s our best bet.”
“Okay,” Jack agreed after considering the proposal. “I’ll lower the duffle bags, and then try to get down there without breaking my neck.”
He left another note for Mr. Livingston, after making certain that the following party was nowhere in view of the mountainside. Anchoring the rope to a stone support of the wrecked bridge, he slid down onto the narrow shelf.
Pedro lay moaning with pain, unable to take a step by himself.
Leaving him for a few moments, Ken and Jack investigated the balsa, which proved to be in sea-worthy condition.
Ken took the stern paddle and Jack the bow. Steering in close to the rock shelf, they managed to lower Pedro onto the raft. What few supplies that remained, were piled in the center of the craft.
“This river evil,” whispered Pedro, stirring beneath the blanket Jack spread over him. “Dangerous to cross.”
Only too well, Jack and Ken were aware of the risks involved. The surface of the fast-moving stream was broken by a series of rapids, a warning that a waterfall might await them beyond the first bend.
The balsa slid easily through the foaming water, close to shore. Rocks were everywhere and the current was deceptively swift.