“Not more than a mile, I should judge, for at twelve o’clock at night the full moon, partly concealed by the mountain, throws a shadow exactly upon the edge of the spot where we are to dig.”

I considered the direction rather blind, but Mr. Brown seemed so confident that I thought I would not dash his spirits by grave misgivings.  I was in a reflective mood, however, while assisting to pack up, and saddle our animals, and I thought how Fred would laugh if we returned empty-handed.

We mounted our animals and rode along the bank of the stream for a few rods, until we reached what we supposed to be a good fording place, for we saw the prints of animals’ feet in profusion on both sides of the brook.

“I will cross first,” Mr. Brown said, “and then you can drive the pack horse over, and follow after him.”

I made no objections to the suggestion, but I thought I would watch his course narrowly, and see how deep the dark-looking water really was before I ventured to cross upon what seemed to me a very uncertain soil.

“Here I go,” my friend exclaimed, striking his reluctant animal, who didn’t appear to relish the expedition.

The spirited animal bounded under the blow, and dashed down the bank, sinking to his knees at every step in the light soil, and straining badly to carry his master in safety to the opposite side.  The water was only up to the saddle girths, and the stream was not more than twenty feet wide, yet I feared that both horse and rider would sink before my eyes in the treacherous quicksands which composed the bed of the brook.

“Use whip and spur,” I shouted, “or you will lose your horse.”

Mr. Brown understood his danger full as well as myself.  He lifted the animal with his bridle, and then drove his sharp spurs into his panting sides, but in spite of his most violent exertions the gallant gray floundered about, and did not make an inch headway, and with prompt action was alone enabled to draw one foot and then another from the sands, and prevent being swallowed alive.

The dark water was lashed into foam by the struggle, and yet I could offer no assistance to my friend or his horse.  It seemed to me that each moment the latter was sinking deeper and deeper, and in a few moments must disappear from sight.

Mr. Brown appeared to entertain the same opinion, for he disengaged his feet from the stirrups, and threw himself from the animal, striking the water flat upon his stomach, and swimming, with quick strokes, towards the opposite bank, which he gained, and by aid of the branch of a gum tree, which overhung the brook, succeeded in swinging his light form upon solid earth.

The horse, relieved of the weight of his rider, seemed encouraged to renewed exertions, and after prodigious efforts, emerged from the quicksands, and uttered a neigh, as though rejoicing at his escape.

“You will have to go farther up,” shouted Mr. Brown, shaking himself, and looking at his soiled clothes rather ruefully.  “The bed of the brook is so quidling, that it won’t bear the weight of a mosquito; and if you should commence sinking, the Lord only knows when you would stop, or where.”