his companion’s safety as I was for mine. Very cautiously she entered the water, and for a third of the way over she was still in her depth. Then the fierce current seized her, the light blue water swept horse and rider away, lifting him from the saddle as if he were but a feather. She gave one mad upward plunge, beating the air with her forefeet, and sank. I held my breath, it had all happened so suddenly—but yes, there were still two heads, and a panama on one of them! Transome had caught the stirrup, how I don’t know in that swift rush of water—laden as he was with camera, knapsack and field-glasses. They were going down stream at a terrific pace, but the mare was striking for the farther shore. She made for a backwater behind a curve of the bank, and as soon as she touched bottom stopped, waiting for her master to mount. He, poor man, was still up to the chin in water! He made her move on, and I saw him mount. He shouted and gesticulated to me—no doubt telling me not to cross. Then galloped away.
He was too far off for me to hear what he had said, and anyway, I had no desire to try. The feeling of intense thankfulness and excitement suddenly gave way; I felt limp and weary, and inclined to cry—to cry in the midst of so much water! It was so hot too, and I had eaten nothing since eleven o’clock. I was all alone in that desolate shingle island, with the rays of the level sun burning on my face . . . . soon it
