[Firefoot]

Sondo lifted his head hopefully when he realized that the time between the flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder were becoming long indeed. Was the rain falling lighter, too, or was it just his imagination? Perhaps the wind was less cutting now. And maybe, that was a glimpse of sunlight through the clouds. Certainly, it was still raining and the river was rough yet, but Sondo was fairly sure the storm was over. They had made it through!

The others seemed to be perking up as they realized the same thing. Granted, they were still stranded on a raft with no decent means to get to shore, but the storm was over; surely everything would be better now. It wasn’t to say that anyone was particularly cheerful (they weren’t) for they were largely still cold, wet, and miserable, but there was a palpable mood of relief in the air.

Gripping the mast tightly for support, Sondo stood up. He wanted to get a better idea of the lay of the land than he could get sitting down. His stance on the rolling raft was shaky, but he did not show it. He stood straight, straining his eyes through the gray rain. Even drenching wet and shivering slightly from the chill, he looked every inch the leader. It was still his adventure, and his infallible optimism would not be suppressed now that the worst of it was over. Seeing him up, some of the hobbits began to move around as well, as much simply to stretch as anything else.

“Hey, there’re some more rapids coming up,” announced Sondo to everyone and no one. “Let’s see if we can get the raft over to the right side of the river more... it doesn’t look so bad over there.” Some raised their eyebrows at him, but it was Rory who asked the unspoken question: “How? Our poles and rope are gone.”

Sondo shrugged impatiently. “Well, what if we used our arms and legs to paddle over there?” No one seemed overly thrilled about getting even more wet than they already were. Seeing this, Sondo was the first to sit down on the edge and put his legs in the (cold) water. He was joined rather reluctantly, some on one side and some on the other to balance the raft.

“Now, paddle!” said Sondo. He kicked his own legs hard, and the joint effort seemed to work, at least a little bit. It did not occur to Sondo that if it hadn’t worked then they would all have been sitting at the edge of the raft while it went over the rapids and they all would have ended up going for a swim. Luckily it did work well enough, and as they drew near the rapids most instinctively withdrew their limbs in preference for the security of the middle of the raft, and the rest followed suit. It was a bit rough, but Sondo had been proven right; the right side was more sedate, and compared to some of the rapids earlier in the day the ride was fairly smooth. There was a quiet satisfaction that had not been fully disabled by the loss of steering equipment. To Sondo, it seemed that even if the hobbits weren’t as jovial as the previous day, their earlier gripes had been forgotten, even though this was not actually true.

The sun was setting and the hobbits were getting hungry again by the time anyone realized the full impact of what it was that they had accomplished earlier: they had steered the raft! They could get to shore, have a hot dinner, and get warm and dry before a fire! Someone voiced this realization jubilantly, and a bit of a cheer went up. Those who had been observant had already noticed the dark clouds which were threatening to let loose a downpour over again, and were the most relieved at this prospect. Heartened by the thought of warmth and comfort, the hobbits began to take their positions on the edge of the raft when someone cried out: “Wait!”

In their new hope, they had ceased to pay any attention to the river. Looming just ahead was another set of rapids, and they could not be all sitting on the edge going over those! So impatiently they set out to wait. Before they had even reached them, however, the storm broke loose once more. A crack of thunder came from directly overhead, and drops came fast and furious. The hobbits were nearly unprepared upon hitting the rapids, and many lost their footing, though luckily none fell overboard.

The griping that Sondo thought had been forgotten quickly returned now. No one wanted to go so close to the edge now that the waves were all but ready to come and turn the raft over! They once again had no means to get to shore, and had no way to see now that the sun had set, leaving them in utter, rainy darkness. Much of this complaining turned against Sondo, and though he tried his hardest to assuage it, he was completely unsuccessful, mostly because he was unconvinced himself. What would they do now? They had never sailed at night before, for obvious reasons. Now it was night and storming! He then felt as much as heard a rock scrape against the bottom of the raft. He could feel an alarming wave of dread rush through him, like when he reached the top limb of a tree and had no idea how to get down or was caught in the act of steeling some mushrooms and knew his Pa was going to give him a thrashing. Only this was worse. Much worse.

Everyone was jolted from their feet when the raft ran headlong into an unseen rock. Then everything seemed to be going in slow motion. A shout that he knew he should recognize was heard, and Sondo knew that someone had gone overboard. There was no time to react, though, before he heard a crash and felt the raft tipping. He was suddenly airborne, and had no way of knowing where he would land. He could hit a rock. All around there were shouts, and there was splashing all around. Then he himself felt himself submerge. He gasped; water filled his mouth. Where was the surface? It was dark - which way was up? He could not see and could not breathe. Under water was blended with above water in the pouring rain. Then, for an instant, lightning flashed and he swam upward. A thought came unbidden: no one swam in a thunderstorm - it was dangerous. He had to get to shore, but his limbs seemed heavy. He felt himself go under again, and his foot hit the bottom. He pushed off, trying to get back to the surface. How deep was the Brandywine anyway? He began to panic. He was going to drown! He thrashed his arms and legs, losing his head and forgetting what he did know about swimming in his panic. Where was everyone? Where was Sassy? She was, after all, his sister, and he felt an overwhelming need to save her as well as himself. Having a purpose calmed him some, but he still couldn’t see. What was happening?