Then he was washed against a boulder, and fancied that one of the
pack-beasts kicked him in its floundering. In any case one knee seemed
to grow suddenly useless, but he was not very sure of anything just
then, for a burst of spray filled his eyes, and the bottom appeared to
slip from under him. He found foothold again in a moment or two, and
dimly saw Alton's head and shoulders above the back of a plunging
beast, while another was apparently swimming somewhere between them.
Then the one Seaforth led stumbled, and they went away down stream
together, clawing for a foothold with the shingle slipping under them,
until there was a thud as they brought up against another boulder. As
he was not sensible of any especially painful blow Seaforth decided
that it was the pony which had struck the rock, and had just come to
this decision when his feet were swept from under him, and, still
clinging to the bridle, he was pressed against the stone while the
river frothed and roared about him.

Once more he felt that it was horribly cold, and flung a wet arm about
the rock, but the power seemed to go out of him, and he wondered
vacantly whether the pony would be able to extricate itself and him.
It floundered spasmodically for a while, and then lay still. How long
this continued Seaforth did not know, but it was more than twelve hours
since he had left Somasco, and he had plodded up and down steep
hillsides, over rock and boulder, and through deep mire and snow, most
of the time, while there are limits to the domination the will of any
man may exercise over his worn-out body.

Seaforth had commenced to realize, still with a curious absence of
concern which was possibly the result of cold and fatigue, that as the
pony could not help him it might be too late very soon unless he made a
vigorous effort to help himself, when he heard a shout, and something