Hundreds of cattle stood up to their stomachs in the water, as our mules plunged deep above their girths, and the men sank down repeatedly. The guide now fairly lost his head, and I had to push on in front to lead, with a feeling of some responsibility in having brought to such a place our long cavalcade, numbering eleven men and twelve animals.
At length mule after mule slipped in till only his shoulders were visible, and one of the little donkies disappeared under water completely, head and ears and everything, but a clever muleteer caught him by the tail, and we pulled him out. Then he began to bray—a piteous performer, all wet and muddy. I noticed that particular donkey's music for months afterwards was always, at least, double his natural allowance, but, in consideration of his gallant behaviour on this occasion, he had special license to bray on continually to the end.
The men lamented their moist bread (the load of the ass submerged), but I cheered them up with a promise of Christmas fare, and then I dismounted, and punted and paddled the Rob Roy, for she might have been injured by a fall if carried any longer on horseback.
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