Ned felt the mighty mass of bone and muscle gather in a bunch beneath him.

Then, ready to expand again with violent energy, it was released as if by the touch of a spring.

The horse sprang from the high bank far out into the deep river.
Ned felt his serape fly from him and his rifle dropped from his hand.
Then the yellow waters closed over both him and Old Jack.

They came up again, Ned still on the horse's back, but with an icy chill through all his veins.

He could not see for a moment or two, as the water was in his eyes, but he heard dimly the shouts of the Mexicans and several shots.
Two or three bullets splashed the water around him and another struck his sombrero, which was floating away on the surface of the stream.
The horse, turning somewhat, swam powerfully in a diagonal course across the stream.