Upon coming out of a thick wood, I found myself on the bank of a real torrent, the stream was so rapid, and the breadth of the river scarcely less than two hundred yards; at a little distance it poured itself into the Ourak. In the mean time we conceived it to be fordable, and with this confidence I spurred my horse to make him descend. In the middle of the river I felt his legs tremble. I encouraged him; he proceeded, and the water now reached no farther than my knee. Emboldened by this circumstance, I placed myself firm in my seat, having been thrown something off my center by a sort of dizziness which the continual view of the current perpetually excited. Already I approached the opposite bank, the climbing of which required new efforts. To ascend it, it was necessary to surmount a ridge of ice which still remained attached to it. The declivity was steep, but it would have been in vain to have fought for a better landing-place. My resolution was soon taken, and I directed the animal towards the perilous ascent; already he had gained a position for his fore feet, and he rested them as well as he could to bring forward his hind ones. He lost his footing, and fell backward into the water; the horse and the rider floated in different parts of the stream. The water was deep, and the cumberousness of my dress restrained my efforts. Both the animal and myself were carried along by the violence of the current, and I insensibly grew weaker. I was approaching the place where the two rivers joined, when on a sudden I heard a voice saying, “Catch at the bridle of your horse, or it is over with you!” The sound, the idea of the danger re-animated me; I struck forward with all my strength, stretched out my hand, and seized the rein. Providence was undoubtedly watchful for my preservation, for at the same moment my horse took footing and breath; an instant later, and we had been lost. I slided my hand to the upper end of the bridle, and then threw my arms strongly round the neck of the animal. Thus I remained suspended as it were between life and death, not daring to move a finger, and calling aloud for succour. My faithful Golikoff had in vain endeavoured to follow me in my misfortune; the vigour of his horse did not correspond to the zeal of the rider; anxious and impatient, it was he that had given me the salutary and terrible advice of grasping at my horse; and no sooner did he perceive its happy effects, than he hastened on his part to climb the shore. To land, to run towards me, to lay hold of my horse and drag him out of the water, and to restore me to life, was all the affair of five minutes.