He came to a ravine and to his dismay found that a considerable stream was flowing through it toward the bayou.

It was yellow water, and he thought he might find a tree, fallen across the stream, which would serve him as a foot log, but a hunt of a few minutes disclosed none, and, hesitating no longer, he prepared to wade.
He put his belt with the pistols in it around his neck and stepped in boldly.

His feet sank in the mud.

The water rose to his knees and then to his waist.

It was, in truth, deeper than he had expected--one could never tell about these yellow, opaque streams.