But Perris saw and lived for only one thing.
Down came that brave head, but now with the ears flattened, for in the
fury of the river his strength was being rapidly exhausted. Down the
current it came, momentarily nearer but always with dangers shooting
about it. Even while Perris looked, a great tree from which the
branches had not yet been stripped rushed from behind. The hunter's
yell of alarm was drowned by the thousand voices of the Little Smoky,
and over that head the danger swept.
Red Perris closed his eyes and his head fell, but when he looked
again the tree was far down stream and the stallion still swam in
the central current, but now near, very near. Only the slender outer
branches could have struck him, and these with barely sufficient force
to drive him under.
Perris strode still further into the wild water until it foamed about
his waist, and stretching out his arms he called to the stallion.
Had he possessed ten times the power of voice he could not have made
himself heard above the rioting of the Little Smoky but his gesture
could be seen, and even a dumb beast could understand it. The
chestnut, at least, comprehended for to the joy of Perris he now saw
those gallant ears come forward again, and turning as well as he
could, Alcatraz swam stoutly for the shore.
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