struggled to hold him to her, while
with her other hand she fought to raise herself by the stub of the log
to which she clung. For she was not thinking of him as Peter, the dog,
but as something greater--something that had fought for her that day,
and because of her had died.

Suddenly she felt a force pulling her from above. It was the big log,
turning again to that point of equilibrium which for a space her weight
had destroyed. In the edge of a quieter pool where the water swirled but
did not rush, her brown head appeared, and then her white face, and with
a last mighty effort she thrust up Peter so that his dripping body was
on the log. Sobbingly she filled her lungs with air. But the drench of
water and her hair blinded her so that she could not see. And she found
all at once that the strength had gone from her body. Vainly she tried
to drag herself up beside Peter, and in the struggle she raised herself
a little, so that a low-hanging branch of a tree swept her like a mighty
arm from the log.

With a cry she reached out for Peter. But he was gone, the log was gone,
and she felt a vicious pulling at her hair, as Jed Hawkins himself had
often pulled it, and for a few moments the current pounded against her
body and the tree-limb swayed back and forth as it held her there by her
hair.

If there was pain from that tugging, Nada did not feel it. She could see
now, and thirty yards below her was a wide, quiet pool into which the
log was drifting. Peter was gone. And then, suddenly, her heart seemed
to stop its beating, and her eyes widened, and in that moment of
astounding miracle she forgot that she was hanging by her hair in the
ugly lip of the flood, with slippery hands beating and pulling at her
from below. For she saw Peter--Peter in the edge of the pool--making his
way toward the shore! For a space she could not believe. It must be his
dead body drifting. It could not be Peter--swimming! And yet--his head
was above the water--he was moving shoreward--he was struggling--

Frantically she tore at the detaining clutch above her. Something gave
way. She felt the sharp sting of it, and then she plunged into the
current, and swept down with it, and in the edge of the pool struck out
with all her last strength until her feet touched bottom, and she could
stand. She wiped the water from her eyes, sobbing in her breathless
fear--her mighty hope. Peter had reached the shore. He had dragged
himself out, and had crumpled