Fortunately, the river at this point was clear of the huge bowlders that strewed its course only a short distance above, and the deep water flowed sullenly on its way.
When our hero began to comprehend somewhat where
"As Little Snap was carried downward, a sharp cry rang on his ears."
he was, he found that Jack was swimming with the current in the middle of the stream.
Then it slowly dawned upon him that he had escaped from that wild leap with his life.
He found to his joy that the mail pouch was still hanging from its usual position.
"Saved, Jack!" he murmured. "What a fearful chance, but you brought me safely through. Keep up courage, my noble fellow, and we will soon be safe on dry land again."
This desperate ride of Little Snap's finds an equal in the mad leap of McCulloch, the brave pioneer of earlier days in Virginia, who, hunted by a party of Indians, in the vicinity of Wheeling Hill, was driven upon the bluff overhanging the creek, and, preferring death in the waters of the stream, rode off the precipice, the banks of which were higher than those of the Kanawha, where Little Snap took his fearful choice. Both the brave McCulloch and his horse escaped, as is verified by the pages of history. I know of no other instance of this kind on record, though there may be many.
Little Snap had passed beyond the point of rocks, so he had lost sight of the Narrows, though the awful sound of the breaking rock still rang in his ears.