For a moment we thought he was gone--trampled down by the excited animals; but he presently showed himself, nearly obscured by the mud and water.

With the agility of a cat, Harry, who was near him, now sprang forward on the pole, and in an instant, with his sharp jack-knife which he had ready, divided the straps that confined their heads.
The horses were at this moment lying floating on the water--one apparently dead, the other as if gasping out his last breath.

But hardly did they become sensible of the release of their heads from bondage, than they made, simultaneously, another furious effort to free themselves from the pole, to which they were still attached by the neck-strap.
Failing in this, they tried another expedient, and, by a few judicious twists and turns, succeeded in wrenching the pole asunder, and finally carried it off in triumph across the river again, and up the bank, where they stood waiting to decide what were the next steps to be taken.
Here was a predicament! A few hours before, we had thought ourselves uncomfortable enough, because some of our horses were missing.

Now, a greater evil had befallen us.

The wagon was in the river, the harness cut to pieces, and, what was worse, carried off in the most independent manner, by Tom and his companion; the pole was twisted to fragments, and there was not so much as a stick on our side of the river with which to replace it.
At this moment, a whoop from the opposite bank, echoed by two or three hearty ones from our party, announced the reappearance of Petaille Grignon.