both shores now, that which they had just left, a black, lumping, dim
outline. Except for the lapping of the water at their feet, all was
deathly still. Even the Indian fire had died out, and it was hard to
conceive that savages were hidden behind that black veil, and that they
two were actually fleeing for their lives. To the girl it was like
some dreadful delirium of sleep, but the man felt the full struggle.
There was a star well down in the south he chose to guide by, but
beyond that he must trust to good fortune. Without a word he lifted
her again to his shoulder, and pushed on.

The water ran deeper, shelving off rapidly, until it rose well above
his waist, and with sufficient current do that he was compelled to lean
against it to maintain balance, scarcely venturing forward a foot at a
time. Once he stumbled over some obstruction, barely averting a fall;
he felt the swift clutch of her fingers at his throat, the quick
adjustment of her body, but her lips gave no utterance of alarm. His
groping feet touched the edge of a hole, and he turned, facing the
current, tracing his way carefully until he found a passage on solid
bottom. A bit of driftwood swirled down out of the night; a
water-soaked limb, striking against him before it was even seen,
bruised one arm, and then dodged past like a wild thing, leaving a
glitter of foam behind. The sand-dunes grew darker, more distinct, the
water began to grow shallow, the bottom changing from mud to sand. He
slipped and staggered in the uncertain footing, his breath coming in
quicker gasps, yet with no cessation of effort. Once he felt the
dreaded suck about his ankles, and broke into a reckless run, splashing
straight forward, falling at the water's edge, yet not before the girl
was resting safely on the soft sand.

Strong as Hamlin was, his muscles trained by strenuous out-door life,