“Pull with the current!” cried the teamster, first to regain his presence of mind. It had needed but this, to awaken Hosmer to the situation.
“Leave off,” he cried at Nathan, who was wringing his hands. “Take hold that oar or I’ll throw you overboard.” The trembling ashen negro obeyed on the instant.
“Hold fast—for God’s sake—hold fast!” he shouted to Fanny, who was clinging with swaying figure to the door post. Of Marie Louise there was no sign.
The caved bank now remained fixed; but Hosmer knew that at any instant it was liable to disappear before his riveted gaze.
How heavy the flat was! And the horses had caught the contagion of terror and were plunging madly.
“Whip those horses and their load into the river,” called Hosmer, “we’ve got to lighten at any price.”
“Them horses an’ cotton’s worth money,” interposed the alarmed teamster.
“Force them into the river, I say; I’ll pay you twice their value.”
“You ’low to pay fur the cotton, too?”
“Into the river with them or I’ll brain you!” he cried, maddened at the weight and delay that were holding them back.