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Strong said, riding up beside me. “That’s the creek, branching into the river down there. And that’s the Prentiss roadhouse.”
    There was no problem getting the pack animals down to the river. Once they saw what was below they came to life, knowing that feed and a warm stall were waiting. They were so anxious that Mr. Strong had to keep holding the lead horse back, afraid that once the animals started to move fast there’d be no stopping them. If one of them was to fall he was liable to drag all the rest down. I knew how they felt. I couldn’t wait to get there myself. Mr. Strong had told me I’d be able to take a hot bath when we reached Steel Creek.
    As we kept going down and drawing near the river, I wondered how we were going to cross. The river wasn’t high, but it was flowing pretty fast. When we reached the bank I was glad to see a thick cable stretched across the water. It was anchored to the cliff face on this side and to a big iron tripod on the other. There was a raft pulled up on the opposite shore that had a line attached to the cable.
    No sooner did we arrive at the river than about a half a dozen people appeared on the other bank. Except for a girl in bib overalls, they were all men. One of them hallooed and yelled a question, but what with the rushing water and the animals milling around, I couldn’t hear. Mr. Strong understood. He shook his head violently from side to side and waved a hand to make sure they understood he was saying no.
    Almost as soon as we were at the bank, Blossom began to give me trouble for the first time all day. He kept heading for the water, and each time I turned him away from it he’d try again. He’d been so good that I’d dropped the switch a long way back. Now I wished I had it.
    Mr. Strong dismounted, and I thought he was going to grab Blossom and help me down. Instead, he starteduntethering the pack animals. As each one was untied it splashed into the waist-deep water. After the third one went in Blossom was so mad at my holding him back that he started trying to bite my foot again, his teeth clicking evilly.
    “Mr. Strong, can you help me? I can’t hold Blossom!”
    “Give him his head, madam. He knows what to do.”
    “You mean let him go in the river?”
    “That is correct.”
    “Can’t we use that raft?”
    “We don’t need it. Rest assured, madam, it’s not necessary. I’ve been doing this for years.”
    You may have, I thought, but I haven’t, and I wished I had the courage to tell him that. The lead animals had reached the middle. Almost up to their haunches, they had to fight to keep their feet in the powerful current. I couldn’t swim, but even if I could cross the Channel like the champion Gertrude Ederle I still wouldn’t be too anxious to do it with Blossom. But I took a deep breath, eased my hold on the reins and let Blossom go. Hungry and bad-tempered, he plunged right in.
    To my surprise, it was easy. Once I stopped caring about getting splashed, I began to enjoy it. I’d seen cowboys cross rivers in picture shows and they’d done it in deeper water than this. I was feeling so good that I even waved once to everyone on the opposite bank.
    Then Blossom slipped.
    He went down on his hind legs and I almost slid off. While he was down the water hit us in the side with so much force that we almost went over. Blossom held his feet, but he started losing ground. The current was pushing us into deeper water. As hard as he tried, Blossom couldn’t hold out against it. He slipped again, and I felt the shock of cold water up to my waist. I began to panic. With Blossom not able to get any purchase on the slippery bottom, it was only a matter of time before we’d be swept away.
    He knew we were in trouble and fought harder than ever to make it to the opposite bank. If I wasn’t so busy just holding on, I’d have had the sense to pointhim downriver and ease him over to the bank gradually, but I was too scared to think. Suddenly he stumbled. His