"Come! A last effort!"
And he plunged into the river, which here was half a verst in width.
It would have been difficult to stand against the current--
indeed, Michael's horse could get no footing. He must therefore
swim across the river, although it was rapid as a torrent.
Even to attempt it showed Michael's marvelous courage.
The soldiers reached the bank, but hesitated to plunge in.
The pendja-baschi seized his musket and took aim at Michael,
whom he could see in the middle of the stream.
The shot was fired, and Michael's horse, struck in the side,
was borne away by the current.
His master, speedily disentangling himself from his stirrups,
struck out boldly for the shore. In the midst of a hailstorm
of balls he managed to reach the opposite side, and disappeared
in the rushes.
CHAPTER XVII THE RIVALS
MICHAEL was in comparative safety, though his situation was
still terrible. Now that the faithful animal who had so bravely
borne him had met his death in the waters of the river,
how was he to continue his journey?
He was on foot, without provisions, in a country devastated
by the invasion, overrun by the Emir's scouts, and still at a
considerable distance from the place he was striving to reach.
"By Heaven, I will get there!" he exclaimed, in reply to all
the reasons for faltering. "God will protect our sacred Russia."
Michael was out of reach of the Usbeck horsemen.
They had not dared to pursue him through the river.
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