still safe …
Impatiently Kirstie glanced at the main waterfall that hid the ledge entrance to the clearing. She frowned at the torrent of water that crashed into the pool at the foot of the fall. Surely the pool hadn’t been that deep before? And surely the waterfall hadn’t completely hidden the ledge!
Suddenly she realized what was happening. The floodwater from the melting mountain glaciers, combined with the rain from the weekend storms, would soon make it impossible to use the entrance. The water would rise faster and faster as the sun continued to melt the snow, and soon it would cut them off from the clearing!
There was no time to lose. Swiftly Kirstie ran to the edge of the pool. Obviously, the narrow channel between the rocks behind the waterfall had been blocked by driftwood and other debris, so the floodwater couldn’t drain away into the stream that flowed across the clearing. Instead, it was rising rapidly over the ledge.
Telling Lucky to stay where he was, she waved both arms and yelled up at the figures on the cliff. “Matt, Lisa; I’m going ahead into the clearing!”
Matt’s reply was drowned by the sound of the waterfall. In any case, it made no difference. Nothing would stop her from checking on the black horse.
Kirstie stumbled and splashed through the pool, taking a shortcut toward the vanishing ledge. Already soaked through, she hauled herself up and began to crawl behind the thundering fall. The water splashed white and foaming all around. Dark rock towered to one side; to the other was a wall of water.
She gasped and crawled on down the sloping ledge. Water was tumbling onto her, bowing her under its force. She had to close her eyes, hold her breath, crawl on, until at last she reached the end of the ledge. Now she could squeeze into the narrow, water-filled gap between two rock faces. She could fumble with her fingertips along the stone corridor, feeling the water hammering down onto her, resisting the rush of the stream as it tried to sweep her along.
But, before the end of the gully, she found an obstacle blocking her way. It was as she thought; a heavy log had jammed across the gap, and a pile of stones and brushwood had collected against it. Water was building up behind the jam, which Kirstie would have to climb to get into the clearing. Steadying herself, feeling the current swirl around her legs and up to her waist, she dragged herself over the sodden barricade.
On the far side she eased herself down into the clearing. She pushed the wet hair from her face and took a deep breath. After the roar and crash of the waterfall came the peace and quiet, the green trees and grass, the black horse in the sunlight.
He stood by the stream as if waiting, his left leg raised from the ground, head up, ears turned toward her.
So beautiful. Caught up in the spell of his powerful presence, Kirstie walked toward him. To her amazement and delight, the horse responded by stepping forwards; one, two, three paces. His injured left leg took his weight, his limp was much less than before. Kirstie smiled at the sight of the stallion’s steady approach.
But only a few yards behind her, the floodwater was rising. She glanced back. The strong current pressed at the log jam, shifting stones, trickling through the gaps into the already swollen stream.
Then suddenly, as she was about to turn to the stallion and reassure him, the main log gave way. Kirstie heard the dam burst and the water rush through in a torrent. With a gasp she prepared to stand her ground.
The powerful wave roared at her and engulfed her, knocked her off her feet, swept her on. She went under, flung out her arms, tried to grab at something solid as the current twisted and turned her. She came up, dragged air into her lungs, sought to save herself.
The stallion was her only hope. He stood in the path of the surging stream. Water swirled around his legs, his chest. It swept Kirstie directly toward him. She closed her outstretched arms
Impatiently Kirstie glanced at the main waterfall that hid the ledge entrance to the clearing. She frowned at the torrent of water that crashed into the pool at the foot of the fall. Surely the pool hadn’t been that deep before? And surely the waterfall hadn’t completely hidden the ledge!
Suddenly she realized what was happening. The floodwater from the melting mountain glaciers, combined with the rain from the weekend storms, would soon make it impossible to use the entrance. The water would rise faster and faster as the sun continued to melt the snow, and soon it would cut them off from the clearing!
There was no time to lose. Swiftly Kirstie ran to the edge of the pool. Obviously, the narrow channel between the rocks behind the waterfall had been blocked by driftwood and other debris, so the floodwater couldn’t drain away into the stream that flowed across the clearing. Instead, it was rising rapidly over the ledge.
Telling Lucky to stay where he was, she waved both arms and yelled up at the figures on the cliff. “Matt, Lisa; I’m going ahead into the clearing!”
Matt’s reply was drowned by the sound of the waterfall. In any case, it made no difference. Nothing would stop her from checking on the black horse.
Kirstie stumbled and splashed through the pool, taking a shortcut toward the vanishing ledge. Already soaked through, she hauled herself up and began to crawl behind the thundering fall. The water splashed white and foaming all around. Dark rock towered to one side; to the other was a wall of water.
She gasped and crawled on down the sloping ledge. Water was tumbling onto her, bowing her under its force. She had to close her eyes, hold her breath, crawl on, until at last she reached the end of the ledge. Now she could squeeze into the narrow, water-filled gap between two rock faces. She could fumble with her fingertips along the stone corridor, feeling the water hammering down onto her, resisting the rush of the stream as it tried to sweep her along.
But, before the end of the gully, she found an obstacle blocking her way. It was as she thought; a heavy log had jammed across the gap, and a pile of stones and brushwood had collected against it. Water was building up behind the jam, which Kirstie would have to climb to get into the clearing. Steadying herself, feeling the current swirl around her legs and up to her waist, she dragged herself over the sodden barricade.
On the far side she eased herself down into the clearing. She pushed the wet hair from her face and took a deep breath. After the roar and crash of the waterfall came the peace and quiet, the green trees and grass, the black horse in the sunlight.
He stood by the stream as if waiting, his left leg raised from the ground, head up, ears turned toward her.
So beautiful. Caught up in the spell of his powerful presence, Kirstie walked toward him. To her amazement and delight, the horse responded by stepping forwards; one, two, three paces. His injured left leg took his weight, his limp was much less than before. Kirstie smiled at the sight of the stallion’s steady approach.
But only a few yards behind her, the floodwater was rising. She glanced back. The strong current pressed at the log jam, shifting stones, trickling through the gaps into the already swollen stream.
Then suddenly, as she was about to turn to the stallion and reassure him, the main log gave way. Kirstie heard the dam burst and the water rush through in a torrent. With a gasp she prepared to stand her ground.
The powerful wave roared at her and engulfed her, knocked her off her feet, swept her on. She went under, flung out her arms, tried to grab at something solid as the current twisted and turned her. She came up, dragged air into her lungs, sought to save herself.
The stallion was her only hope. He stood in the path of the surging stream. Water swirled around his legs, his chest. It swept Kirstie directly toward him. She closed her outstretched arms
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