same side as Tom, and was sheltering herself against him; and they were facing my side of the stream, and only attached by the one trace and the pole-straps! Fortunately, they were standing quite quietly. By a dexterous twist of her head the Scorpion now freed herself from her collar, so that, except for the reins tangled up with the rest of the harness, she was free. What was one poor man unaided to do in such extremities? He did the only thing possible—climbed out on the submerged pole and got astride the Scorpion, and began to worry at that tangle of harness—the water surging all the time against the wreck, and threatening to sweep it all away. At last he fished up the collar, and patiently worked at the wet buckles till both horses were freed; though for some time it seemed as if the tangle never could come undone without being cut, and one trace got washed away in the process. He rode ashore, bearing the collar and remains of the traces—a sorry sight—and left the shipwrecked Berline lying mid-stream, but now settled-down comfortably, and no longer waving a distressed wheel as at the first.
I was crushed—it was all my fault, and the most precious of our stuff was lying out there at the mercy of the capricious Matukituki!
To save what we could was the next consideration, and this was no easy matter in that wild swirl of waters. The remaining saddle was put on the Scorpion, and she was with some difficulty
