On they went, limbering up their legs from long riding by rapid walking.
At last they came to a rise, when the scout halted. He saw that there were two ridges running to the river, a deep ravine between them.
Across the river he saw that there was a sand bar, and a point of sand stretched out into the stream, the swift flow being on the side where they stood.
The channel here looked narrow, too, and, examining the water, it appeared to be more shallow than above and below.
“Sergeant, I think here is the crossing.”
“The same thought was mine, sir.”
“Of course, they would have to swim their horses for several hundred yards, but by riding out upon that sand bar which is well above, they would land, forced down by the current, about at this ravine—in fact, if they were swept by, would not land at all.”
“If they crossed from this side, sir?”
“They would have to ride in yonder above at that break in the bank, and that would bring them on the sand-bar point. I will go there and see if they could get down to the river, while you look down in the ravine for their trail,” and the scout started on his way, to suddenly call out to the sergeant, who was climbing down the ravine: