With a sort of instinctive readiness,
she opened the door at the very moment the rifles were ringing in
her ears, and protected by the intervening cabin, she stepped into
the stem of the scow in time to witness the fall of Hurry into the
lake. Her foot was unconsciously placed on the end of one of the
sheets of the sail, which was fastened aft, and catching up all
the spare rope with the awkwardness, but also with the generous
resolution of a woman, she threw it in the direction of the helpless
Hurry. The line fell on the head and body of the sinking man and
he not only succeeded in grasping separate parts of it with his
hands, but he actually got a portion of it between his teeth. Hurry
was an expert swimmer, and tethered as he was he resorted to the
very expedient that philosophy and reflection would have suggested.
He had fallen on his back, and instead of floundering and drowning
himself by desperate efforts to walk on the water, he permitted his
body to sink as low as possible, and was already submerged, with
the exception of his face, when the line reached him. In this
situation he might possibly have remained until rescued by the
Hurons, using his hands as fishes use their fins, had he received
no other succour, but the movement of the Ark soon tightened the
rope, and of course he was dragged gently ahead holding even pace
with the scow.
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