He was soon enough to know.
* * * * * * * *
As Faye drifted rapidly downstream, now threatened by floating fragments of ice, and now caught and whirled around by mad swirls of racing water, she expected every moment to reach the end of life. So long, however, as the faithful Tico swam at her side she could not give up hope. So, with the moon painting a mocking golden path to shore and all the starry reflections dancing about her, she drifted on.
But what was this? Something cut her face. Another. This time came a stinging blow. Putting up a hand to protect herself, she grasped something and held on for a second.
“Willows,” she told herself. “Overhanging willows. There’s a chance—”
Again her hand went up. At once it was struck a glancing blow.
“Oh—Oo!” The pain in her wrist for the moment was intense, yet she persevered. The next attempt was better. Arrested in her mad flight, she swung round and hung there for a second. Once more her hold was broken. Not however until her other hand had gone up. Before the current had gotten her under way, she had gripped a stouter, stiffer branch. With a supreme effort she threw herself half out of the water to grasp the branch with her free hand.
The branch was strong. It held her half free from the water. Another struggle and she was astride the branch. At once the branch was submerged. But riding so, she was able to look about her and to catch a few fleeting thoughts as to how the affair would end.
The branch, she discovered, had swung in quite close to shore. There was a rim of ice before her, but by working her way down the branch she could reach a position close to other and stronger branches.
“I’ll get hold of those and swing up,” she said aloud.