He had not had a glimpse of Wildfire on this side of the divide, but he found his tracks, and they led down off the last level, through a notch in the black bank of marble to a sand-bar and the river.
Wildfire had walked straight off the sand into the water.

Slone studied the river and shore.

The water ran slow, heavily, in sluggish eddies.
From far up the canyon came the roar of a rapid, and from below the roar of another, heavier and closer.

The river appeared tremendous, in ways Slone felt rather than realized, yet it was not swift.

Studying the black, rough wall of rock above him, he saw marks where the river had been sixty feet higher than where he stood on the sand.