He nodded back in the direction from which they had come.
"We're out of the worst of it," he tried to shout.

"As soon as we've got our wind, I will climb over the rock to you.

It won't take us longer than a couple of minutes, perhaps less, to make the quiet water at the end of the channel." She heard him and nodded her reply.

He wanted to give her confidence.
And he had no intention of resting, for her position filled him with a terror which he fought to hide.

The babiche rope, not half as large around as his little finger, had swung her to the downstream side of the rock.