Sitting firmly in his saddle, the postboy felt himself carried out over the dark chasm, and he caught a gleam of the foaming waters hurling their forces madly against the rock walls of the channel. The next instant he felt a quiver run through the frame of the faithful steed, and he knew that she was falling!
Under the weight of her burden the mare somehow missed her footing, her feet slipped on the treacherous way, and she tried in vain to recover her equilibrium.
Finding that she was falling, Little Snap freed his feet from the stirrups just as horse and rider shot headlong into the boiling river!
At that moment the pursuing party halted on the bank of the stream, amazed witnesses of the mishap.
Little Snap was carried completely over a stringer running parallel with the first, and, lighter than the horse, struck in the water farther down the stream.
Fortunately, he escaped the jagged rocks of the banks, though the fall deprived him for a time of his senses. When he came to a realization of his situation, he found himself struggling in a mass of débris which had clogged the river a short distance below the crossing.
In the midst of his efforts to extricate himself, he heard a voice just above him. Then, as he peered out from his retreat, he saw some of his enemies coming rapidly toward the place.
"I can see him!" cried the foremost. "I knew he came down this way."
"Give up, younker!" called another voice. "Ye mought as well, fer we air sure to git yer."
Letting go the branch upon which he had found himself clinging, Little Snap hoped to elude his foes by swimming down the stream. But he found himself so entangled in the mass of floating wood about him, that before he could get clear, the party was in the water beside him.