e felt that it would not be well for her to do so.
Suddenly one of the horses stumbled again, and the teamster flung her
father the reins. "Get hold," he said. "Line's in the trace-hook."

He was over the front of the wagon next moment, and the girl gasped as
she saw him crawl out with an arm across the back of one of the
galloping horses and his knees on the pole. It looked horribly
dangerous, and probably was, for the wagon was lurching furiously down
the declivity. Then he leaned out and downwards over the horse,
clawing at something desperately, and Miss Deringham would have shut
her eyes if she could have done so. In place of it she stared
fascinated at the clinging figure while the trees flashed past, until
it was evident that the man had accomplished his task. How he got back
she did not know, but he was once more on the driving-seat when his
voice reached her breathlessly.

"Get a good hold. I'm going to put them at the hill when I can," he
said.

They swept on until the hillside sloped more gently on the one hand,
and the teamster flung, himself backwards, dragging at the reins. The
wagon, tilting, swung partly round, then there was a horrible lurching,
and the lathered beasts were floundering up a slope, smashing down the
undergrowth and fern, until the vehicle stopped suddenly with a crash.
The man sprang down and Miss Deringham and her father lost no time in
following him, while when at last the team stood still trembling, he
crawled out from under the wagon and turned to them.

"That brake never was much good," he said. "One of the beasts
stumbling jerked the line into the hook there, and the fore-wheel beam
gave out when we struck the tree. I'm most afraid we'll have to stop
right here tonight!"

"But that, as you will realize, is quite impossible," said Deringham,
glancing towards his daughter.

The man nodded. "It looks that way now, but you wait until I've fixed
things up," said he. "Then if you feel like walking eight miles I'll
go on with you."

The girl noticed the swift orderliness of all he did as she watched him
take out the horses and tether them, tear down armfuls of cedar-twigs,
and then pack them between some flour-bag's and the side of the wagon,
over which he stretched a strip of waterproof sheeting. Then he made a
fire, disappeared into the mist, and coming back with the kettle,
strode into the bush again. In the meanwhile Deringham, looking into
the wagon, pointed to