They were thoroughly exhausted and half drowned.
In the mean time, the elk had manfully breasted the rapids, carefully choosing the shallow places; and the whole pack, being mad with excitement, had plunged into the waters regardless of the danger.

I thought every hound would have been lost.

For an instant they looked like a flock of ducks, but a few moments afterward they were scattered in the boiling eddies, hurrying with fatal speed toward the dreadful cataract.

Poor "Phrenzy!" round she spun in the giddy vortex; nearer and nearer she approached the verge--her struggles were unavailing--over she went, and was of course never heard of afterward.
This was a terrible style of hunting; rather too much so to be pleasant.

I clambered down to the edge of the river just in time to see the elk climbing, as nimbly as a cat up the precipitous bank on the opposite side, threading his way at a slow walk under the overhanging rocks, and scrambling up the steep mountain with a long string of hounds at his heels in single file.