But we felt safer on that side.

I looked at the smooth surface of the river, and its alkali shores, and the picture became indelibly impressed upon my memory.

The unpleasant reality destroyed any poetic associations which might otherwise have clung to the name of Sunset Crossing in my ever vivid imagination.
After the tents were pitched, and the camp snugged up, Mr.Bailey produced some champagne and we wished each other joy, that we had made the dangerous crossing and escaped the perils of Sanford's Pass.

I am afraid the champagne was not as cold as might have been desired, but the bottle had been wrapped in a wet blanket, and cooled a little in that way, and we drank it with zest, from a mess-cup..