Below Hare was
a smaller rapid where the broken water turned toward the nearer side of
the river, but with an accompaniment of twisting swirls and vicious
waves.
"I guess we'd better risk it," said Hare, grimly recalling the hot rock,
the sand, and lava of the desert.
"It's safe, if Silvermane is a good swimmer," replied Mescal. "We can
take the river above and cut across so the current will help."
"Silvermane loves the water. He'll make this crossing easily. But he
can't carry us both, and it's impossible to make two trips. I'll have to
swim."
Without wasting more words and time over a task which would only grow
more formidable with every look and thought, Hare led Silvermane up the
sand-bar to its limit. He removed his coat and strapped it behind the
saddle; his belt and revolver and boots he hung over the pommel.
"How about Wolf? I'd forgotten him."
"Never fear for him! He'll stick close to me."
"Now, Mescal, there's the point we want to make, that bar; see it?"
"Surely we can land above that."
"I'll be satisfied if we get even there. You guide him for it. And,
Mescal, here's my gun.
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