A BATTLE WITH A TORRENT 149 



limb was attached to a submerged log, one end 

 of which was lodged in the drift pile and the 

 other rested diagonally against the bank. 



It bent almost double from the awful strain, 

 but I managed to keep my grip. At that mo- 

 ment my body was drawn under until my head 

 was so low in the water that the spray splashed 

 into my face. I felt a bar of some sort resting 

 across my back I had been partly drawn under 

 the edge of the drift pile. 



Feeling about, I finally found a resting-place 

 on a log for my feet, and by pushing, and pulling 

 at the same time with my hands, I wriggled my 

 body from side to side and managed to work 

 my head above the water. 



A mass of roots protruded from the bank 

 almost within arm's reach. Again bracing my 

 feet against the log that had pinned me down, 

 I gave a vigorous push, threw myself toward 

 shore, and snatched the roots. 



Under ordinary circumstances it would have 

 been easy to scramble out, but in my ex- 

 hausted condition, and with at least a bucket 

 and a half of water in my hunting-coat pockets, 

 I could scarcely drag myself from the stream. 



At last, however, I managed to work my way 



