From his position he could see the stream a hundred yards below the ford.

Stevens had driven in his horses.

He could see them breasting the first sweep of the current, their heads held high, struggling for the opposite shore.

He rose, dropped his birds, and stared.
"Good God, what a fool!" he gasped.
He saw the tragedy almost before it had begun.

Still three hundred yards below the swimming horses was the gravelly bar which they must reach on the opposite side.