Then, as the current deepened, the poor girl lost her feet altogether,
and was carried on toward the deep water, flinging her arms high and
screaming, but powerless. At first she was buoyed up by her clothes, and
particularly by a petticoat of some material that did not drink water.
But as her other clothes became soaked and heavy, she sank to her chin,
and death stared her in the face.
She lost hope, and being no common spirit, she gained resignation; she
left screaming, and said to Everett, "Pray for me."
But the next moment hope revived, and fear with it--this is a law of
nature--for a man, bare-headed and his hair flying, came galloping on a
bare-backed pony, shouting and screaming with terror louder than both the
women. He urged the pony furiously to the stream; then the beast planted
his feet together, and with the impulse thus given Hope threw himself
over the pony's head into the water, and had his arm round his child in a
moment. He lashed out with the other hand across the stream. But it was
so powerful now as it neared the lasher that they made far more way
onward to destruction than they did across the stream; still they did
near the bank a little.
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