“‘Here’s easy going!’ I cried, when we came to the river.
“‘Bad ice!’ John grunted.
“And it proved to be so––ice which the suns of clear weather had rotted and the frosts of night and cold days had not repaired. Rotten patches alternated with spaces of open water and of thin ice, which the heavy frost of the night before had formed.
“When we came near to Great Bend, where we were to take to the woods, it was late in the afternoon, and the day was beginning to turn cold.
“We sped on even more cautiously, for in that place the current is swift, and we knew that the water was running like mad below us. I was ahead of John, picking the way; and I found, to my cost, that the way was unsafe. In a venture offshore I risked too much. Of a sudden the ice let me through.
“It was like a fall, feet foremost, and when I came again to the possession of my faculties, 175 with the passing of the shock, I found that my arms were beating the edge of ice, which crumbled before them, and that the current was tugging mightily at my legs.
“‘Look out!’ I gasped.
“The warning was neither heard nor needed. John was flat on his stomach, worming his way towards me––wriggling slowly out, his eyes glistening.
“Meanwhile I had rested my arms on the edge, which then crumbled no more; but I was helpless to save myself, for the current had sucked my legs under the ice, and now held them securely there, sweeping them from side to side, all the while tugging as if to wrench me from my hold. The most I could do was to resist the pull, to grit my teeth and cling to the advantage I had. It was for John to make the rescue.
“There was an ominous crack from John’s direction. When I turned my eyes to look he was lying still. Then I saw him wriggle out of danger, backing away like a crab.