However, he managed to find foothold at last under the bank, and we were able to haul him out with ropes. The next day, the 15th of July, still found us struggling through floods, logs, and _débris_, and was signalised by the occurrence of an irremediable misfortune. In order to prevent the possible loss or damage of provisions by the horses disporting themselves in deep water, we led those which carried flour and pemmican. Two of the others, however, who were running loose--a horse most aptly named Gisquakarn, or “The Fool,” and Bucephalus--strayed over the true river-bank into the stream, and were swept off in a moment. They soon disappeared from our view, and the Iroquois and boy went in pursuit, whilst we followed with the rest of the horses. About a mile down stream we caught sight of the animals, standing in a shallow in the middle of the stream, and as we came just at this time to one of the rare natural gardens of the mountains, brilliant with flowers and rich in strawberries, we camped in the open ground. We were in full view of the two animals in the river, and hoped they would be tempted to join their companions on shore. Bucephalus began to neigh, and eventually commenced swimming towards us; but Gisquakarn, “The Fool,” instead of following in the right direction, steered down mid-stream, and Bucephalus, after a moment’s hesitation, turned away and followed him into the fiercest strength of the irresistible flood. Away both went, far outstripping our utmost speed in pursuit, their packs only being visible in the distance, bobbing about like corks in the rolling waters. [Illustration: THE ASSINIBOINE RESCUES BUCEPHALUS.]