Already The Pair Were Forty Or Fifty Yards Below Me.

Instantly I turned and swam to his assistance.

The struggles of the mule rendered it dangerous to get at him. When I did so he was partially dazed; his hold was relaxed. Dragging him away from the hoofs of the animal, I begged him to put his hands on my shoulders or hips. He was past any effort of the kind. I do not think he heard me even. He seemed hardly conscious of anything. His long wet hair plastered over the face concealed his features. Beyond stretching out his arms, like an infant imploring help, he made no effort to save himself.

'I seized him firmly by the collar, - unfortunately, with my right hand, leaving only my left to stem the torrent. But how to keep his face out of the water? At every stroke I was losing strength; we were being swept away, for him, to hopeless death. At length I touched bottom, got both hands under his head, and held it above the surface. He still breathed, still puffed the hair from his lips. There was still a hope, if I could but maintain my footing. But, alas! each instant I was losing ground - each instant I was driven back, foot by foot, towards the gulf. The water, at first only up to my chest, was now up to my shoulders, now up to my neck. My strength was gone. My arms ached till they could bear no more. They sank involuntarily. William glided from my hands. He fell like lead till his back lay stretched upon the rock. His arms were spread out, so that his body formed a cross. I paddled above it in the clear, smooth water, gazing at his familiar face, till two or three large bubbles burst upon the surface; then, hardly knowing what I was doing, floated mechanically from the trapper's grave.

. . . . . . .

'My turn was now to come. At first, the right, or western, bank being within sixty or seventy yards, being also my proper goal, I struck out for it with mere eagerness to land as soon as possible. The attempt proved unsuccessful. Very well, then, I would take it quietly - not try to cross direct, but swim on gently, keeping my head that way. By degrees I got within twenty yards of the bank, was counting joyfully on the rest which a few more strokes would bring me, when - wsh - came a current, and swept me right into the middle of the stream again.

'I began to be alarmed. I must get out of this somehow or another; better on the wrong side than not at all. So I let myself go, and made for the shore we had started from.

'Same fate. When well over to the left bank I was carried out again. What! was I too to be drowned? It began to look like it. I was getting cold, numb, exhausted. And - listen! What is that distant sound?

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