The explanation was simple.  At this point the Little Smoky abated its speed a little and had dropped a load of rolling stones and sand.  An hour later it might be washed away, but now it made a strong bank with the current skimming above the surface.  On this the stallion had struck, and whirling with the current he faced towards the source of the valley and looked into the volleying waters.  Here, surely, was a sight to make a weakling tremble.  But to the astonishment of Perris, he saw the head of the stallion raised, and the next moment the thunder of his neigh rang high above the voices of the river, as though he bade defiance to his destroyer, as though he called on the God of Gods to bear witness that he died without fear.

“By the Eternal!” breathed Red Perris, smitten with awe, and the next instant, the ground giving way beneath him, Alcatraz was bowled over and over, only to come up again farther down the stream.

He turned his head.  Far away he made out a line of horsemen—­grey, ghostly figures miles away.  Hervey was keeping to his word, then.  But the thought of his own danger did not hold Red Jim Perris for a moment.  Down there in the thundering water Alcatraz was dying!

The heart of Red Perris went out to the dauntless chestnut.  He spurred down the bank until he was even with the struggler.  He swayed far out, riding the mustang so near the brink that the poor creature shuddered.  He capped his hands about his lips and the hunter screamed encouragement to the hunted, yelled advice, shrieked his warnings when treetrunks hurtled from behind.

It seemed to Red Perris that Alcatraz was not a brute beast but a soul about to perish.  So much do brave men love courage!  Then he saw, a hundred yards away, that the bank of the stream fell away until it became a gradually shoaling beach to the water edge.  With a shout of hope he raced to this point of vantage and flung himself from the saddle.  Then, grasping the rope, he ran into the stream until it foamed with staggering force about his hips.

But would Alcatraz live among those sweeping treetrunks and come within casting distance of the rope?  Even if he did, would the rope catch around that head of which only the nose and eyes were showing?  Even if it caught could the stallion be drawn to shoal water without being strangled by the slip-knot?  Had Perris been a calm man he would have discarded the thousandth chance which remained after all of these possibilities.  He would have looked, instead, to his cowpony which was now cantering away towards liberty in the rear of the flying squadron of mares.  But Perris saw and lived for only one thing.

Down came that brave head, but now with the ears flattened, for in the fury of the river his strength was being rapidly exhausted.  Down the current it came, momentarily nearer but always with dangers shooting about it.  Even while Perris looked, a great tree from which the branches had not yet been stripped rushed from behind.  The hunter’s yell of alarm was drowned by the thousand voices of the Little Smoky, and over that head the danger swept.