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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
35
There
was
nothing
for
it
but
a
desperate
leap
from
the
timbers
into-she
didn't
know
what.
Down,
down,
down-plop,
splash,
plunge
into
the
deep
water,
not
cold,
for
it
was
August,
but
oh,
so
horrible!
She
spluttered
and
coughed
when
she
came
to
the
top,
glanced
around
to
see
if
the
Monsters
were
swimming
after
her,
and
struck
out
for
shore.
She
had
never
learned
to
swim,
and
yet
she
swam,
for
the
simple
reason
that
a
Cat's
position
and
actions
in
swimming
are
the
same
as
her
position
and
actions
in
walking.
She
had
fallen
into
a
place
she
did
not
like;
naturally
she
tried
to
walk
out,
and
the
result
was
that
she
swam
ashore.
Which
shore?
The
home-love
never
fails:
the
south
side
was
the
only
shore
for
her,
the
one
nearest
home.
She
scrambled
out
all
dripping
wet,
up
the
muddy
bank
and
through
coal-piles
and
dust-heaps,
looking
as
black,
dirty,
and
unroyal
as
it
was
possible
for
a
Cat
to
look.
Once
the
shock
was
over,
the
Royal-pedigreed
Slummer
began
to
feel
better
for
the
plunge.
A
genial
glow
without
from
the
bath,
a
genial
sense
of
triumph
within,
for
had
she
not
outwitted
three
of
the
big
Terrors?
Her
nose,
her
memory,
and
her
instinct
of
direction
inclined
her
to
get
on
the
track
again;
but
the
place
was
infested
with
those
Thunder-rollers,
and
prudence
led
her
to
turn
aside
and
follow
the
river-bank
with
its
musky
home-reminders;
and
thus
she
was
spared
the
unspeakable
horrors
of
the
tunnel.
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