Gradually Hero sank lower and lower into the water, and then went under suddenly. His feet no longer touched the bottom.
Henderson and his wife cried out in alarm as horse and girl sank beneath the water; but they rose again in a moment, and, shaking the water from his eyes with an angry snort, Hero struck out boldly for the distant shore.
The current was still strong and gradually bore them down the valley. But Hero made headway, and every stroke of his mighty legs bore them much nearer safety.
Now darkness, thick and intense, descended over the valley, and neither horse nor rider could see five yards ahead. But neither lost heart, Hero plunging straight ahead and Shirley clinging tightly to his neck and uttering low words of encouragement.
For a long, long time, as it seemed to both horse and rider, they continued their cold and wet journey; then, abruptly, Hero’s feet struck the rising ground of the high land. A moment later he stood on all feet, the water up to his knees, but with solid ground beneath him. Quickly he drew himself free of the water, and Shirley, soaking wet, and cramped from the one position she had been forced to maintain, jumped stiffly to the ground.
She threw her arms around the horse’s neck, and gave him a great hug.
“Good old Hero!” she exclaimed. “I knew you would bring us over safely. Now to find some one and send them after the Hendersons.”
She walked quickly along in the darkness, Hero following her like a dog.
At last, in the distance, she made out a dim light and hurried on toward it. Soon she was close enough to make out that she was approaching a little house, through a window of which the light twinkled. She broke into a run, and without stopping to knock, dashed inside.
A man and a woman rose to their feet, and Shirley was also conscious of other figures in the room.