A strange chilly sensation ran down his spine.
He rode to the very edge of the stream and began to examine it for a possible ford.

San Antonio was on the other side, and he must cross.
But everywhere the dark, swollen waters threatened, and he continued his course along the bank.
A thick growth of bushes and a high portion of the bank caused him presently to turn away from the river until he could make a curve about the obstacles.

The tolling of the bell had now ceased, and the fog was lifting a little.

Out of it came only the low, angry murmur of the river's current.
As Ned turned the curve the wind grew much stronger.

The bank of fog was split asunder and then floated swiftly away in patches and streamers.