Ordinarily, it was not a large stream;
a boy could chuck a stone across it, and there was a ford above the bridge
not very deep in dry weather, which people sometimes took
to water their horses, or because they preferred to ride through the water
to crossing the steep and somewhat rickety old bridge. Now, however,
the water was far out in the woods, and long before the girl
got in sight of the bridge she was wading up to her knees. When she reached
the point where she could see it, her heart for a moment failed her;
the whole flat was under water. She remembered Darby's command, however,
and her courage came back to her. She knew that it could not be as deep
as it looked between her and the bridge, for the messenger had gone
before her that way, and a moment later she had gone back and collected
a bundle of "dry-wood", and with a long pole to feel her way she waded
carefully in. As it grew deeper and deeper until it reached her breast,
she took the matches out and held them in her teeth, holding her bundle
above her head. It was hard work to keep her footing this way, however,
and once she stepped into a hole and went under to her chin,
having a narrow escape from falling into a place which her pole
could not fathom; but she recovered herself and at last was on the bridge.
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