With a whoop and on the run, they dashed into the water, throwing the spray high into the air, and the weary animals buried their noses in the stream and drank so greedily that the water ran out of their nostrils, the men leaning over and drinking out of their hands, and throwing it over their heads and faces.
"Hello, Calthorpe," joyously called McCloud from the bank above. "You're late."
Calthorpe made no reply, but having allowed his horse another gulp, with quirt and spur drove him through the stream to the further bank.
"Hold my horse, will you?" throwing him the reins. "And don't let him get back into the stream."
"What in the world are you doing?"
But to this the young man did not trouble to reply, but tore his clothes off as if they burnt him.
"See here, you can't bathe here at this ford; some of the women might come this way."
"Well, you stand there and shoo them away."
The other smiled good-humoredly as Calthorpe lurched down the bank above the ford and slid into the water with complete abandon.
"Oh, Lord," he sighed, "how heavenly."