"Yep, move lively, 'case she's a-tearin' down the mountain like greased lightning!" Zander Forbes called out; lapsing into cowboy lingo, college graduate as he claimed to be. As Jerry had to be in the van to serve as their guide, Zander had taken it upon himself to tow the pack-pony as well as his own mount. This was a tremendous responsibility under such conditions, and few punchers there were who could have managed it; but then Zander seemed to be little short of a wizard among animals. The thunder still bellowed, while the rain fell in almost solid sheets, so that in all there was a hurricane of sound around the fleeing party. Still above this noise they could plainly distinguish that awful roar of rushing waters on the rampage, than which there can be no more terrifying sound possible. Paul Bird had to clinch his teeth until his lips bled in order to master the deadly fear that gripped his very soul and made him feel sick. In imagination he was picturing the scene Lanky had drawn when he spoke so jokingly about "swimming down on the boiling flood to be swept out into the little valley with broken bones and life extinct." So far as Frank could see, those grim and lofty and forbidding walls continued to hem them in on either side--utterly unscalable, and looking like the jaws of a trap that was destined to be their doom. But he felt positive that Jerry knew of some avenue of escape from the canyon, if only they were given the time required to reach the opening. Once the flood caught up with them, all would be lost. He had never looked upon such a spectacle in all his life, but he understood that the first wave might be something like ten feet high, and making the descent of the abrupt mountainside with incredible velocity, so that it was bound to carry horses and human being off their feet when it struck them, and as the downpour still continued the chances were that the torrent would gain additional volume with every rod it rushed along. On the fugitives pressed, making better time than could have been attained under any other conditions, for there is nothing equal to the dread of death to spur men and beasts on to herculean efforts. Fortunately none of the ponies had thus far stumbled. Although the time lost by such an accident might be only the fraction of a minute, even such a brief delay was apt to cost them dear when the race was so close. Frank's pony seemed to lag a bit, having hit upon a section of ground that was rougher than the rest, being strewn with more loose rocks, and in this way the lad found himself the last member of the sextette. In a flight such as this, it is usually every one for himself, since there is no time given to double-up. As Lanky would have stated it, "Every chap must look out for himself." Jerry was calling out now at the top of his voice, and despite all the other booming sounds they could catch the drift of his words, meant solely to encourage them at this crisis.