I had got more than half-way across when I began to find my strength failing me.  It seemed that I should never reach the shore; still, I struck out, straining every nerve.  I was afraid at length that I should be obliged to allow myself to be carried down by the current, and be glad to cling to the first rock or bough I could reach.  My eyes were growing dim, and I could scarcely see the bushes on which they had so long been fixed.  Still I struggled on, determined if possible to succeed.  Suddenly I felt myself caught by an eddy, and the next instant I was carried close under the bank.  I was about to grasp one of the branches, when I recollected that the sharp eyes of the Indians would discover where my hand had crushed the leaves, so I resisted the temptation, turning myself on my back for a minute to rest; then I dived down, and came up again in the very middle of the bush.