"Highest flood we—ever seen," said Van.
"You've been down?" queried Bostil, sharply.
"Not to the river," replied Van. "I went as far as—where the gulch opens—on the bluff. There was a string of Navajos goin' down. An' some comin' up. I stayed there watchin' the flood, an' pretty soon Somers come up the trail with Blakesley an' Brack an' some riders.... An' Somers hollered out, 'The boat's gone!'"
"Gone!" exclaimed Bostil, his loud cry showing consternation.
"Oh, Dad! Oh, Van!" cried Lucy, with eyes wide and lips parted.
"Sure she's gone. An' the whole place down there—where the willows was an' the sand-bar—it was deep under water."
"What will become of Creech's horses?" asked Lucy, breathlessly.
"My God! ain't it a shame!" went on Bostil, and he could have laughed aloud at his hypocrisy. He felt Lucy's blue eyes riveted upon his face.
"Thet's what we all was sayin'," went on Van. "While we was watchin' the awful flood an' listenin' to the deep bum—bum—bum of rollin' rocks some one seen Creech an' two Piutes leadin' the hosses up thet trail where the slide was. We counted the hosses—nine. An' we saw the roan shine blue in the sunlight."
"Piutes with Creech!" exclaimed Bostil, the deep gloom in his eyes lighting. "By all thet's lucky! Mebbe them Indians can climb the hosses out of thet hole an' find water an' grass enough."