The moonlight gave such slight help that the four depended almost wholly upon the instinct of their animals. Hercules never faltered, but advanced with the slow, 197 plodding, undeviating certainty of those of his kind who thread their way through the treacherous passes of the Alps. Once his hind hoof struck a stone which went bounding down the precipice on his left, until at the end of what seemed several minutes, it lay still at the bottom. Neither animal nor rider showed the least fear, for in truth both were accustomed to little slips like that.
“I’m blessed if this isn’t the most ticklish business that I ever attempted,” muttered Captain Dawson; “I never had anything like it in the army; it reminds me of scouting between the lines, when you expect every second a bullet from a sharpshooter––”
At that instant his horse stepped on a round, loose stone which turned so quickly that before he could recover himself the hoof followed the stone over the edge of the precipice. The horse snorted and struggled desperately, and the brave rider felt an electric shock thrill through him from head to foot, for there was one moment when he believed nothing could save them from the most frightful of deaths.
The left hind leg had gone over the rocky shelf, which at that point was very narrow, and the hoof was furiously beating vacancy in the despairing effort to find something upon which to rest itself. His body sagged downward and the rider held his breath.
“Steady, my boy!” he called, and with rare presence 198 of mind allowed the rein to lie free so as not to disconcert the steed.
The tremendous struggle of the intelligent animal prevailed and with a snort he recovered his balance and all four feet stood upon firm support.
“That was a close call,” observed the parson, whose heart was in his mouth, while the brief fight for life was going on.
“It was so close that it couldn’t have been any closer,” coolly commented the captain, fully himself again.