“I only wish two or three would come!” cried Gerald. “We would soon make the survivors turn to the right-about; for I am pretty sure we should kill a couple at least.”
“I hope that we shall not have anything of the sort to do,” I answered. “I am perfectly ready to fight, when necessary, in a right cause, such as I believe that to be in which our friends are engaged; but it is dreadful to contemplate killing people unless stern necessity compels us. Warfare is terrible work at the best, and the butcheries of which I have heard in this country show too well what men are capable of when their passions are excited. For my part, though I have seen but little of fighting as yet, I wish that peace were established.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t do for a guerilla!” exclaimed Gerald, in a somewhat contemptuous tone.
“I shall not fight with less determination because I wish for peace,” I continued, not minding him. “The only way to secure it is to beat our enemies; and that I will do my best to accomplish, when I have the opportunity.”
“That I am sure you will!” exclaimed Gerald, sorry for his remark; for though impulsive, and in the habit of blurting out anything that came uppermost, he was ever ready to acknowledge himself in the wrong.
We galloped on for some leagues, stopping occasionally to give our horses breath, and then reached the borders of the lake I spoke of—which extended for some distance parallel with the foot of the mountains, and was fed by several streams which flowed from them. It was also connected, by another stream, with the smaller lake below our father’s house. Out of it likewise flowed a river of some size towards the east.
We had forded two of these smaller streams without difficulty, when we came to a wider and deeper one.
“We shall have to swim for a little distance,” said Gerald; “but our horses will perhaps carry us over on their backs. However, if we find that our weight is too much for them, we must slip off; only we must remember to hold on tight by their manes, and keep at their shoulders, to avoid the unpleasant pats they might otherwise give us with their fore hoofs. And, by-the-by, it will be as well, while we are on their backs, to keep our feet as high up as we can, lest an alligator should take a fancy to our toes; though, as the brutes are of no great size, we haven’t much to fear from them.”
I thought Gerald was joking; but he was perfectly in earnest, though the danger we were to run did not in the slightest degree trouble him.
I followed his advice when, after wading a short distance, my horse began to swim. Shortly afterwards, as its body was completely immersed, I slipped off its back, taking care to hold on to its mane, near the crupper, with one hand, while I struck out with the other. Gerald himself, being so much lighter, stuck on, and guiding his horse to a shelving part of the bank, regained the firm ground.