The following morning we swam the creek after firing our guns and shouting to scare any alligators that might be about. The creek was about two hundred feet across, and for about sixty feet from the south shore the depth was only about four feet, then the bed suddenly dropped and the current rushed very strongly until the north shore was reached, and there the landing was very bad as the scrub came right down to the water. The way we crossed was as follows: A small line was made fast to the after part of the saddles and stretched along each horse’s back and a half hitch round its tail. The horses were then driven into the water, and at once began to swim across. Captain Brown and Whitefield hung on to the rope of one horse, and the other two men and I took the other. Before we started Brown told me to keep next the horse and watch it closely, and to keep my sheath-knife handy for fear the current might sweep it away. Brown’s horse led, and we stood to watch it land. When about half way across Whitefield let go the rope, and with a swift stroke brought himself alongside the horse on the lower side, then he kept one hand on the saddle and used the other to propel himself. This eased the horse somewhat, and he got over fairly easily.
After they had safely landed, Brown called out to me to ease all weight off the horse. We started, and I swam alongside the horse like Whitefield had done. The other men held on to the rope with one hand and swam with the other, and we got along first class until about fifty feet from the other side, when I felt my feet touch something, and my heart came into my mouth. The next minute the horse seemed to be jerked backward, and terrified he began to plunge, snorting and neighing. Then I heard Whitefield sing out:
“Cut the rope! Cut the rope!”
I drew my knife, and while holding on to the saddle with my left hand, reached over and cut the rope near the saddle, in my haste cutting a gash in the horse’s back. At the touch of the knife, and with the strain from behind relieved, the horse plunged ahead, and in a minute we landed. I looked round for the other men, but they had gone under.
“Whatever was the matter, Brown?” I asked.
“Well I don’t know,” he replied. “We saw the fellows go under, and saw the horse floundering, and Whitefield called out cut the rope, and if it had not been cut at that moment, the horse would have gone under, and you, too, I expect.”
“But what do you think took them under?” I persisted. “We were going along all right at first. Do you think it was an alligator, Whitefield?”
“Oh, no,” he replied, “if it had been he would have gone for the horse first. I think there must be a dead tree, or a snag down there, and they must have struck it and been drawn down in the eddy. They are dead enough by this time, anyhow.”
“But good heavens, mates, it’s awful,” said Brown, “to think we all had breakfast together, and now two of us are dead. Were they friends of yours, Whitefield, you seem to take it pretty coolly if they were?”
“No,” he replied, “I didn’t know them. We met on the road over the Normanby river, and beyond their names, I know nothing about them, except that they had been sailors. They were jolly good mates—I know that much, anyhow. As to my taking it coolly, well, mates, my fussing about it would not bring them back, it may be our turn next, we are not in Cooktown yet. I expect they suffered less in that last lap of their race in life, than in any other part, and by this time they’ll have learnt the grand secret.”