Obsessed now by the one controlling impulse to get away safely, I drove the horse into the water, and as he reached swimming depth, grasped a stirrup leather, and compelled him to strike out for the opposite shore.

It was not a hard struggle, nor were we long at it, although the current was swift enough to bear us down a hundred feet, or more, before we struck bottom, wading out at the mouth of a small creek, the low banks offering some slight concealment.

I looked back through the darkness, across the dim water, and up the shrouded hill on the opposite side.

Lights were winking here and there like fire-flies.

I stared at them, light-hearted, confident I had every advantage; then I patted the horse, and adjusted the stirrups.
"She waited until we were safe across, old fellow," I said, too pleased to remain still.