I saw D.'s great
horse carried off his legs, my mare, too, was swimming, and shortly
afterwards, between swimming, struggling, and floundering, we
reached what had been the junction of the two rivers, where there
was foothold, and the water was only up to the seat of the saddles.
Remember, we were both sitting nearly up to our waists in water, and
it was only by screaming that our voices were heard above the din,
and to return or go on seemed equally perilous. Under these
critical circumstances the following colloquy took place, on my
side, with teeth chattering, and on hers, with a sudden
forgetfulness of English produced by her first sense of the imminent
danger we were in.
Self.--"My mare is so tired, and so heavily weighted, we shall be
drowned, or I shall."
Deborah (with more reason on her side).--"But can't go back, we no
stay here, water higher all minutes, spur horse, think we come
through."
Self.--"But if we go on there is broader, deeper water between us
and the shore; your husband would not like you to run such a risk."
Deborah.--"Think we get through, if horses give out, we let go; I
swim and save you."
Even under these circumstances a gleam of the ludicrous shot through
me at the idea of this small fragile being bearing up my weight
among the breakers.
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