h de drift.
De heavy stuff--de tree an' de beeg log, dey mos' all on odder side. A'm
t'ink dat better we cross. A'm t'ink dat boat lan' befor' dis--we com'
pas' it."

"But how are we ever going to buck this current? If we've past it we'll
have to go up stream to find it."

"We hont de ranch an' git de hoss an' ride 'long de edge."

"But, suppose they haven't landed? Suppose they've drifted on down?"

The half-breed shrugged: "S'pose dey gon' on down--we can't ketch um.
Dey got de beeg start. De riv' she car' de ferry joost so fas' lak she
car' de leetle boat. S'pose dey gon' too far for ride back, dey com'
back on train. But, me--A'm t'ink dey lan' befor' dis. We com' bout
feefty mile. You fol' Ol' Bat--we fin' um."

The half-breed, who more than once that day had proven himself more
willing than proficient with the oars, surrendered them to Endicott and
for more than an hour the Easterner battled with the yellow, turgid
flood before he finally succeeded in driving the boat ashore in the
mouth of a coulee. Abandoning the boat, they struck out on foot up river
where, a mile or more above they had passed fences. When they finally
located the ranch house Endicott was near to exhaustion.

It was mid-afternoon and he had eaten nothing since the night before,
every muscle in his body ached from his labor at the oars, and the skin
of his feet was rubbed raw by the grind of the high-heeled boots. The
people at the ranch knew nothing of the wrecked ferry, the men holding
with Bat, that the chances were it had grounded far above. Declining
their invitation to remain over till morning, Endicott procured horses
and an ample supply of food and, with the hearty approval of Old Bat,
the two struck out up the river.

"He said it was nearly seventy miles to Long Bill Kearney's ferry
crossing and only three ranches between," said Endicott as the horses
laboured out of a deep coulee, "and if anything's happened to their
horses and they haven't struck one of those ranches, they're going to be
in a bad way."

"Dem all right. Dat Tex, she got de gun, she shoot de jack-rabbit, de
leetle owl, mebbe-so de deer--dey ain' gon' hungry w'ile he got de gun."

It was slow work exploring the margin of the flood. The late darkness
overtook them with scarcely twenty miles of the distance covered, and
they camped on the top of a high bluff where they built up a huge fire
visible for many miles up and down the river. Daylight found them once
mo