Newspaper Archive of
The Saguache Crescent
Saguache , Colorado
November 21, 1901     The Saguache Crescent
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November 21, 1901

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L I I I w ..The Filibusters of Venezuela.. , $ Or the l'rials of a Spanish Oirl. ; Copyrighted 1900 by Robert Bonner's Sons. CHAPTER XXI. A Rough Voyage. An exclamation of alarm burst from Jacinta when the sudden plunge of the , flatboat gave indubitable evidence that the rope had broken. "We are afloat! We are afloat!" "And rushing it,' said Medworth. "Are you all right, Jack?" For so large was the boat, and so dark the night, that Arthur did not doubt that his friend was somewhere on board. But as no answer came to him out of the darkness, his heart stood still with horror. "Jack," he shouted, "are you on the boat?" Loud as he shouted, no answer came to his straining ears but the mocking howl of the storm. "Tempest is lost!" he exclaimed. "My heavens! What shall we do "What can we do, senor?" tearfully asked Dona Maria. "it is enough to drive one's senses from one. Is it not terrific! Nothing ~an ~ave us in this awful storm." And, in truth, there was foundation enough for her terror. In the blackness of the night and in the rush and swirl of the ,water the great, clumsy flatboat turned and twisted, groaned and creaked, now lunging forward as if going over a ca- taract, now swinging viciously against a bit of high bank or a tree standing deep in the water, but always bounding off again to continue its fearful way. At times it would not progress, but would whirl round and round in the grasp of a furious eddy; then, like a wild beast released from its cage, it would plunge on. It was never two minutes the same, never for a moment under the control of :~ught save that overwhelming mass of water and the Omnipotent hand that controls even the torrents and the floods. At the tremendous rate at which they were being carried along they swept past mile after mile of flooded Ilanos, and their troubled minds did not know or could not guess were they were. But the stanch old boat did not fail them. It seemed every minute as if it must go to pieces. When the long, dreadful hours of the night had passed, and the scarcely less