Gabriel gathered up his drum and began to turn around to leap back onto the bank and make a mad rush for the tree. Just as he turned, something in the river caught his eye. A dark object appeared to be moving in the shadowy water, coming around the bend in the river upstream from him. He stood motionless on the rock, straining his eyes to see. Looking more closely, he could see the something moving or waving.
The thought of Thomas Tew’s ghost crept into Gabriel’s mind, sending chills up and down his back again. But this was not the white phantom shape he had seen the other night. Still, he thought it was odd the shape had appeared in the water just as he spotted the giant hollowed oak tree. This being — or whatever it was — had sprung up in the river at the exact spot where Captain Tew would have jumped in to escape the bandits’ musket fire. In fear, disbelief, or perhaps exhaustion, a sudden fainting spell caught hold of him. His vision blurred again, and he lost his balance, almost stumbling off the rock and into the river.
Squatting to his knees, Gabriel again looked up river. He heard something above the sound of rushing water and the low drone of the waterfall that lay downstream. He thought he heard someone calling out. Again, he heard the noise. He was able now to hear a muffled, “Help me . . .”
Gabriel forced himself to look up at the shape floating down the river. His vision cleared enough to see what looked like a man waving one arm. His other arm was wrapped around a small log, as he struggled to stay afloat. The current swept him along. This did not look, or sound, like a ghost.
Gabriel could now hear the cries more clearly. “HELP! HELP!” The man let go of the log and grasped at a boulder that barely broke the surface of the frothy water. He caught hold and clung on. Then he turned toward Gabriel and looked him squarely in the eyes. Venturing to the edge of the rock on the river’s bank, Gabriel looked closely now. The man had a gash on his forehead, and blood was oozing from the cut.
That’s no ghost, Gabriel thought. Instinctively, he began to move more quickly. His mind cleared as his adrenaline raced. Again, he thought of how Thomas Tew met his death tumbling over the approaching waterfall. He waved at the man from the rock. “Hold on,” he shouted. Gabriel leapt from the rock to the bank and turned to head upstream to where the man had caught hold of the boulder. But as soon as he turned, the man lost his grip on the boulder and began careening down the tumbling water once more.
Gabriel began to panic. What could he do for this man? The stranger would soon float past him. He knew he could certainly not jump into the river to try and save the man.
His mind raced. He must find some way to get him out. The man was growing near, his head still above the water, arms flailing. “The trail,” Gabriel said to himself. He could take the shortcut at the bend. If he ran, he might be able to get ahead of the man and throw something in for him to grab onto.
He turned and sprinted back to the narrow trail, his drum catching on the brush as he ran. He lifted the strap over his shoulder and threw it to the ground. He ran as fast as he had the night before when he was running for his own life. This time, it was the life of the man in the river he was running to save.
Gabriel burst out at the trailhead. The raging sound of the waterfall was much louder now, almost drowning out his thoughts. He quickly went to the bank and looked upstream. The man was still being swept along by the current. Gabriel had gotten ahead of him, but now what?
He surveyed his surroundings, looking for something to throw the drowning man. If he could find a long enough fallen tree limb, he could toss it out and pull the man to shore. He scrambled along the bank, pushing old leaves aside on the forest floor, but there were no long limbs to be found.
Then Gabriel spotted a tall, slender sapling with exposed roots on the muddy bank from the rushing waters. If he could topple this sapling, it might be long enough to reach the man. He ran at the sapling, slamming all of his weight into it at once. The young tree bent but did not fall. Again Gabriel ran at the tree, forcing one of its roots to give way. He was surprised by the strength of the tree.
“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.