I removed my boots, and waded out to a little bar.

The sand seemed quite firm, but water oozed out around my feet; and when I stepped, the whole bar shook like jelly.

I pushed my foot through the crust, and the cold, wet sand took hold, and tried to suck me down.
"How can you ford this stream with horses ?" I asked Emmett.
"We must take our chances," replied he.

"We'll hitch two teams to one wagon, and run the horses.

I've forded here at worse stages than this.
Once a team got stuck, and I had to leave it; another time the water was high, and washed me downstream." Emmett sent his son into the stream on a mule.