And now God speed you, my friend, in your cold
swim across the stream!"
Malcolm and the sergeant now walked half a mile up the river, a
distance which, judging from the strength of the current and the
speed at which they could swim, would, they thought, take them
to the opposite bank at about the point where the boat was lying.
Shaking hands with Colonel Munro, who had accompanied them,
Malcolm entered the icy cold water without delay. Knowing that it
was possible that their strength might give out before they reached
the opposite side, Malcolm had had two pairs of small casks lashed
two feet apart. These they fastened securely, so that as they began
to swim the casks floated a short distance behind each shoulder,
giving them perfect support. The lever and paddles were towed behind
them. The lights in the two camps afforded them a means of directing
their way. The water was intensely cold, and before they were
halfway across Malcolm congratulated himself upon having thought
of the casks. Had it not been for them he would have begun to doubt
his ability to reach the further shore, for although he would have
thought nothing of the swim at other times his limbs were fast
becoming numbed with the extreme cold. The sergeant kept close to
him, and a word or two was occasionally exchanged.
"I think it is colder than our mountain streams, Grant?"
"It's no colder, your honour, but the water is smooth and still,
and we do not have to wrestle with it as with a brook in spate.
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