Dreadnought's eye was turned towards me as he came dripping up the bank,
and seeing me move forward, he ran before me to the water's edge, at the
right entrance of the ford, whining, and howling, and baying, as if he
knew as well as I that it was the place to make for. In a few steps the
stones became less slippery, and the bottom more even, and I began to
think that I might gain it, when, at the rocky point above, I saw a
white mass of foam, loaded with brushwood, sticks, and rubbish, borne
along by a ridge of yellow curdling water, at least two feet higher than
the stream. I gathered all my strength, and made a struggle for the bank
opposite to where I was. The water was already above my belt, and
rushing between my arms as I bore up the guns. I felt myself lifted off
my legs; again I held the ground. The green bank was only a few yards
distant, but the deep water was close below, and the yellow foaming
flood above. As I staggered on, I heard it coming down, crumpling up and
crackling the dead boughs which it bore along. I stumbled upon a round
stone, and nearly fell backward, but it was against the stream which
forced me forward. I felt the spray splash over my head: I was nearly
blind and deaf. I made a desperate effort with the last strength which I
had left, and threw myself gasping on the bank.
Dreadnought sprang forward, jumped over and over me, whined, and kissed
my face and hands, and tried to turn me over with his snout, and
scratched and pawed me to make me speak; but I could not yet, and
gasped, and choked, and felt as if my heart would burst. I lay, dripping
and panting, with my arms stretched out on the grass, unable to move,
except with the convulsive efforts of my breath. At last I sat up, but I
could scarcely see: a thin gauzy cloud was over my eyes, a heavy
pressure rung in my ears, my feet still hung in the water, which was now
sweeping a wide white torrent from bank to bank, and running with a
fierce current through both the pools below. The back-water, where my
bonnet had danced, no longer remained; all was carried clear out in one
long rush down to the Cluag. 'Benedictum sit nomen Domini!' I thought,
as I crossed myself. I stretched out my hand, and plucked the nearest
flowers, and smelled their sweet greenwood scent with inexpressible
delight. I never thought that flowers looked so beautiful, or had half
so much perfume, though they were only the pale wild blossoms of the
fading year. I placed them in my breast, and have them still, and never
look upon them without repeating--
'DE PROFUNDIS CLAMAVI AD TE, DOMINE!'
[Illustration: THE FINDHORN.]
Such were the hazards on the fords of the Findhorn; but even by boat the
struggle was sometimes no less arduous, though it enabled us to cross
the water at a height otherwise impassable, of which the following
passage is an example:--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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