Still Silver Tassel gained on him, as they both gained on the boy.
Oshondonto swam strong and hard, but he swam with his eye on the struggle
for the shore also; he was not putting forth his utmost strength, for he
knew it would be bitterly needed, perhaps to save his own life by a last
effort.
Silver Tassel passed him when they were about fifty feet from the boy.
Shooting by on his side, with a long stroke and the plunge of his body
like a projectile, the dark face with the long black hair plastering it
turned towards his own, in fierce triumph Silver Tassel cried "How!" in
derision.
Billy Rufus set his teeth and lay down to his work like a sportsman. His
face had lost its roses, and it was set and determined, but there was no
look of fear upon it, nor did his heart sink when a cry of triumph went
up from the crowd on the banks. The white man knew by old experience in
the cricket-field and in many a boat-race that it is well not to halloo
till you are out of the woods. His mettle was up, he was not the
Reverend William Rufus Holly, missionary, but Billy Rufus, the champion
cricketer, the sportsman playing a long game.
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