Ned noticed at once that the machinery
jarred. The great horse was laboring hard and the Mexican cavalry,
comparatively fresh, was coming on fast. It was evident that he would
soon be overtaken, and so sure were the Mexicans of it that they did not
fire.
There were deep reserves of courage and fortitude in this boy, deeper
than even he himself suspected. When he saw that he could not escape by
speed, the way out flashed upon him. To think was to do. He turned his
horse without hesitation and urged him forward with a mighty cry.
Never had Old Jack made a more magnificent response. Ned felt the mighty
mass of bone and muscle gather in a bunch beneath him. Then, ready to
expand again with violent energy, it was released as if by the touch of
a spring. The horse sprang from the high bank far out into the deep
river.
Ned felt his serape fly from him and his rifle dropped from his hand.
Then the yellow waters closed over both him and Old Jack. They came up
again, Ned still on the horse's back, but with an icy chill through all
his veins. He could not see for a moment or two, as the water was in his
eyes, but he heard dimly the shouts of the Mexicans and several shots.
Two or three bullets splashed the water around him and another struck
his sombrero, which was floating away on the surface of the stream.
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