142 AFRICAN ADVENTURE STORIES 



the snow on the mountain top had commenced 

 to melt, I should have had no difficulty in ford- 

 ing it, but the sun had been beating down on 

 the drifts for hours, and the stream was con- 

 verted into a raging torrent that undermined 

 great boulders and sent them bumping over 

 the rocky bottom to find new resting-places far 

 below. 



I worked my way along the bank, looking for 

 a chance to cross, and finally came to a place 

 where the creek widened and the water was 

 shallow. Although the current ran swiftly, it 

 seemed to be the only near-by spot to ford and, 

 as we had already lost much valuable time, I 

 decided to make the attempt. 



At the foot of the riffle the stream narrowed, 

 and there appeared to be an abrupt drop 

 in the river bed, for the water suddenly broke 

 into a succession of angry billows, three feet 

 high, that extended down the main channel, 

 like the waves that follow in the wake of a 

 large steamer. 



Taking my rifle from my gun bearer and lay- 

 ing it across the saddle in front of me, I told 

 him to wait there until I should return and 

 then rode into the stream. 



