Had my hair been of the dramatic 

 kind that realises situations, it would 

 have turned white in the next ten min- 

 utes. The water was over the horses' 

 backs immediately, the wagon box was 

 afloat, and we were being borne rapidly 

 down stream in the boiling seething 

 flood, when the wheels struck a shingly 

 bar which gave the horses a chance to half 

 swim, half plunge. The two men, who 

 were on horseback, each seized one of 

 the leaders, and kept his head pointed 

 for a cut in the bank, the only place 

 where we could get out. 



Everything in the wagon was afloat. 

 A leather case with a forty dollar fish- 

 ing rod stowed snugly inside slipped 

 quietly off down stream. I rescued my 

 camera from the same fate just in time. 

 Overshoes, wraps, field glasses, guns, 

 were suddenly endowed with motion. 



