appeared a wall of water in which trees and the carcases of animals were
whirled along like straws. The flood had come down from the mountains, and
was advancing on her more swiftly than a horse could gallop. Rachel ran
forward a little way, then understanding that she had no time to cross,
stood bewildered, for the fearful tumult of the elements and the dreadful
roaring of that advancing wall of foam overwhelmed her senses. The
lightnings went out for a moment, then began to play again with tenfold
frequency and force. They struck upon, the nearing torrent, they struck in
the dry bed before it, and leapt upwards from the earth as though Titans
and gods were hurling spears at one another.

In the lurid sheen of them she saw the lad leap from his rock and rush
towards her. A flash fell and split a boulder not thirty paces from him,
causing him to stagger, but he recovered himself and ran on. Now he was
quite close, but the water was closer still. It was coming in tiers or
ledges, a thin sheet of foam in front, then other layers laid upon it,
each of them a few yards behind its fellow. On the top ledge, in its very
crest, was a bull buffalo, dead, but held head on and down as though it
were charging, and Rachel thought vaguely that from the direction in which
it came in a few moments its horns would strike her. Another second and an
arm was about her waist--she noted how white it was where the sleeve was
rolled up, dead white in the lightning--and she was being dragged towards
the shore that she had left. The first film of water struck her and nearly
washed her from her feet, but she was strong and active, and the touch of
that arm seemed to have given her back her wit, so she regained them and
splashed forward. Now the next tier took them both above the knees, but
for a moment shallowed so that they did not fall. The high bank was scarce
five yards away, and the wall of waters perhaps a score.

"Together for life or death!" said an English voice in her ear, and the