“May God have mercy!” the man shouted, growing closer now. Gabriel again slammed his body into the tree and then took it by the trunk rocking it back and forth. He kicked at it, punched at it. Still, it would not fall. He could see the man clearly now. Seeing what Gabriel was trying to do, the man began flailing his arms in order to push himself closer to where Gabriel struggled with the tree. Gabriel ran back a good twenty yards. He turned, sprinted, and jumped at the tree just before he reached the base, sending all of his rushing weight at the center of the sapling. A cracking sound filled the air, and he rolled onto his side, nearly falling into the water.
The tree finally toppled into the river. The top of it had been drug downstream a few feet, where it lodged against a boulder. The base of the tree remained attached to the riverbank by a few straggly thin roots. Although the current tugged at the tree, its roots held fast.
Gabriel looked up from the muddy ground, his face only a few inches from the edge of the bank that fell into the river. The man was trying with all his might to reach the tree lying in the river. He flailed his arms, just making it to the boulder and banging up against it with a sudden force. Then he flung himself off the boulder onto the slender tree. Pulling himself along the tree, he slowly crawled to the bank where Gabriel lay. Gabriel could now see he was middle-aged and had no doubt been weakened by the struggle in the river.
The man reached the bank, but with blood still coming from his forehead, he could not pull himself up out of the water. Himself exhausted, Gabriel stumbled to his feet and held out his hand to the man. The man weakly grasped hold of Gabriel’s arm just below the elbow. Gabriel pulled, but the man did not budge. He dug his feet in and pulled again. This time, the man rose up onto the bank.
Losing his balance from the force of the man pulling his arm, Gabriel’s feet slipped in the mud. He tried to grasp hold of something, but there was nothing to grab, and he plummeted into the river.
The force of the cold river water took Gabriel’s breath away. His head went under. Blindly reaching up, he groped aimlessly. Miraculously, his hand found the tree. Grabbing hold, he began to pull himself up. He got his head up to grab a breath, but in his exhaustion, he was not able to keep his head above the water. Gabriel could feel himself beginning to slip away. His grip was loosening on the tree, his last connection to life fading.
H 18 H
FOUND
Gabriel felt himself falling. He could picture himself hurtling over the waterfall, down to the rocks below. His jacket went tight on his chest, but rather than the sensation of falling he expected, he felt as if he was being lifted. The pressure of the water no longer pressed him to continue to try to hold his breath. He exhaled with great force as a feeling of weightlessness filled his senses, but he couldn’t inhale. His body was thrown down onto something hard. Something like a mallet started beating on his chest.
He coughed and spewed water from his lungs and stomach and tried to draw a breath but couldn’t. Again he coughed and vomited. He gasped, desperate for air, and then it came. The air filled his lungs as he took a breath and then another. He continued to cough, but his breath had returned.
Someone was beside him and helped him to sit up. He could not see, but he heard the pounding of the waterfall and the whinny of a horse. Then a voice came. “You’re going to be all right, just try to relax.”
Gabriel blindly turned his head toward the voice. “Who’s there?”
“No questions, at least not yet. Just rest,” came a strong but quiet voice. Gabriel lay back down and rested.
A while later, he was not awake but not quite asleep when he overheard men talking. The same voice that told him to rest said, “You know, Artemas, you are one lucky man to be sitting here alive. After your horse threw you off when we were crossing the river, you plunged into that swirling water and, I hate to say it, but I thought I’d seen the last of you.”
“I wouldn’t call it luck,” replied a weak voiced man. “More like divine intervention. For this boy to be standing along the bank of the river, see me coming, somehow get ahead of me, and then have brains and courage to pluck me out, it must be one of His miracles. By the grace of God, I owe the young man my life.”
“How did he do it?” questioned a third man with a deep and clear voice.
“I’m not sure,” said Artemas. “First time I saw him was when I grabbed onto a boulder in the middle of the river, but the current was too strong, I couldn’t hold on. When I turned back to look for the lad, he was gone. Next thing I know, I see him up ahead of me, jumping at a tree. It falls over and lodges perfectly against a rock in the river. I was able to grab a hold of the tree and pull myself to the shore, but I didn’t have the strength to pull myself up out of the river. That’s when the boy reached down and, bless his courageous soul, tugged on me so
