An hour later, he rattled up to the opposite bank, threw us a sympathetic grin, and got to work. It was a pleasure to watch Bill work. It is a pleasure to watch anyone work provided one has no share in it oneself, but some people weary one by puttering. I could watch Bill on the hardest kind of job, and feel fresh and fairly rested when he finished. He always knew beforehand what he intended to do, and did it deliberately and easily. He first drove two stakes into the ground, some distance apart, attached a double pulley to them, and to the front bar of the car, the only part not under water, and he and his assistants pulled gradually and patiently till from across the river we could see the sweat stand out on their brows. In ten minutes, we were astonished to see the half drowned giant move slightly. Hope rose as the river fell. Bill took another reef in his trousers and the pulley, then another and another, and at last the old lady groaned, left her watery bed, shook herself, and clambered up on dry land.
THE CAR SAGGED DRUNKENLY ON ONE SIDE.
FORDING A RIVER NEAR SANTA FE.
Crossing fords, to our hubs, which yesterday were mere trickles and to-morrow would
be raging torrents.
ON THE WAY TO GALLUP.
Jack and all sank in the soft quicksand beneath the weight of the car.
We crossed on horseback to the other side and waited with a sick internal feeling, while Bill removed the wheels and examined the damage.