Читать книгу The Perfect World. A romance of strange people and strange places онлайн

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The river was narrow, perhaps four feet wide at the most, but with a current so strong that Alan, good swimmer though he was, would not have dared trust himself to its cruel-looking depths. Mechanically he dropped into the water a lump of coal. There was a slight splash—but no sound came to tell him that it had reached the bottom. He felt in his pockets, and found half a ball of string. Tying a piece of coal to one end he dropped it into the rapids, but his arm was up to his shoulder in the river, and yet the coal had not touched the bottom.

He looked at the water curiously, and dabbled his fingers in the brackish fluid. Suddenly a pain in his hand made him draw it out quickly, and by the light of the lantern he saw it was covered with blood. As he wiped it clean he saw the impression of two teeth on his first and third fingers. Slowly his lips moved and he murmured—“There is animal life in this river then—I wonder whither it leads—can there be humanity near too?”

His lantern was nearly out, and by its dying rays he tried frantically to fashion himself a raft, upon which he could trust himself to the waters. A trolley, smashed by the force of the explosion, lay near him. The wheels had been wrenched off and it was all in pieces. He looked at it carefully. The bottom piece was intact with half of one end still in position. He examined it critically. Would it float? Well he must risk that. He thought it would, and the end piece would serve as a hold to keep him on safely.