The water was both deep and cold, and Dick looked at it doubtfully.
He urged his great horse into the stream at last, and it appeared that the creek had risen somewhat since the boy had last seen it.

In the middle the horse was compelled to swim, but it was no task for such a powerful animal, and Dick, holding his feet high, came dry to the shore that he sought.
The road led on through high hills, covered with oak and beech and cedar and pine, all the deciduous trees bare of leaves, their boughs rustling dryly whenever the wind blew.

He saw the smoke of three cabins nestling in snug coves, but it was a full three hours before he met anybody else in the road.

Then he saw two men riding toward him, but he could not tell much about them as they were wrapped in heavy gray shawls, and wore broad brimmed felt hats, pulled well down over their foreheads.
Dick knew that he could not exercise too much caution in this debatable land, and his right hand dropped cautiously to the butt of his pistol in such a manner that it was concealed by his heavy overcoat.

His left hand rested lightly on the reins as he rode forward at an even pace.