The ferry seemed to crawl across the river, but it arrived at last, and each girl led her horse on board. They were all frightened, but nobody showed the “white feather.” Babe’s cheeks were pale, though, as she patted her restive mount, and laughed bravely at Madeline’s futile efforts to feed sugar to her tall “Black Beauty,” who jerked his nose impatiently out of her reach each time she tried.
“Beauty must be awfully upset if he doesn’t want sugar,” said Babbie, who was standing next the groom. “He’s the greed——” The next minute Betty found herself holding her own and the groom’s horse, while he plunged after Babbie’s, who was snorting and kicking right into the midst of everything. It had lightened, and between the lightning and the water Babbie’s high-spirited mare was frantic, and was fast communicating her excitement to the others.
A minute later there was a tremendous jolt which set all the horses to jumping.
“I swan,” said the apathetic ferryman who had paid no attention to the previous confusion. “We’re aground.”
The girls looked at one another through the gathering shadows.
“How are we going to get off?” asked the groom desperately.
The ferryman considered. “I dunno.”
Babbie’s horse plunged again.
“Can we wade to shore?” asked the groom, when something like order was restored.
“Easy. You see I knew the river was awful low, but I s’posed——”