His reasoning powers were completely overturned; he continued to buffet the waves with wild energy, and to strain every fiber of his being in the effort to propel himself through the water, long after the boat was hopelessly beyond reach.
Henry understood his feelings well, and knew that the poor missionary would not cease his efforts until exhaustion should compel him to do so, in which case his being drowned would be a certainty; for there was neither boat nor canoe at hand in which to push off to his rescue.
In these circumstances, the youth took the only course that seemed left to him.

He threw off his clothes, and prepared to swim after his friend, in order to render the assistance of his stout arm when it should be needed.
"Here, Jakolu!" he cried to one of the natives who stood near him.
"Yes, mass'r," answered the sturdy young fellow, who has been introduced at an earlier part of this story as being one of the missionary's best behaved and most active church members.
"I mean to swim after him; so I leave the charge of the party to Mr.
Bumpus there.

You will act under his orders.

Keep the men together, and guard against surprise.

We don't know how many more of these blackguards may be lurking among the rocks." To this speech Jakolu replied by shaking his head slowly and gravely, as if he doubted the propriety of his young commander's intentions.