The river is Down Read Free

of the two men took the spirit out of her wave: and they did not return it.
    Exasperated at having to rescue a traveller?
    The tall one pushed his hat on the back of his head, came round the front of the Land-Rover, and began giving the short man instructions. He pointed across the river, then back to their own car. The short man pushed his hat on the back of his head too, then nodded. The first man leant in the window, and when his head and shoulders came out of it he was holding a megaphone.
    'Hullo, over there!' he called through it. 'Have you a tow-bar to your car? Raise both arms for "Yes". Drop both arms by your side for "No".'
    Cindie raised her arms. A tow-bar on her car was pure luck. She had bought the car cheap from a second-hand dealer. It probably had been a country car before it was traded in.
    'Good. Next question. Is your name Cindie Something—maybe Brown?'
    Cindie's chin firmed, just that much. She wished she too had a megaphone. She would have called back—'It's Cindie, but not Something. Just Brown-all-over.' She was about to be rescued—but she wished they had been as nice about it as she was relieved.
    All she could do was raise her arms to signify 'Yes'.
    'Right! Now listen carefully. Turn your car round rear-end to the river. Move any luggage and gear on to the back seat. That's two instructions. If you understand both, lift your hands over your head.'
    Cindie did as she was told.
    'Right!' the answer came back. 'We're coming across.'
    Both men climbed back into the Land-Rover, started up and drove down the sloping bank into the water. Having a four-wheel drive, the Land-Rover could do more than any ordinary car. Cross a river, for one thing. The churning of mud was a wonder to behold, but the Rover kept on moving through the river, water almost up to chassis level. It had a relentless, powerful engine.
    Cindie felt her eyes rounding while this was going on. Supposing they bogged! The thought appalled her. She was
    so concerned about their safe transit she was bound by anxiety to the spot. She also realised that they perhaps considered she could have driven over too—if she had had the nerve. They were annoyed with her. That was it. They hadn't wanted to come to rescue her. How different from Jim Vernon!
    They knew her name was Cindie. That was Jim Vernon's air-call. The thoughts rattled, unrelated, through her anxious mind.
    The Land-Rover churned upgrade now, which meant it had safely made the deep part in the middle of the river The mud was a chocolate-brown pudding again.
    She felt herself tense all over as she watched the from wheels, enormous rippled rubber tyres, roll forward on to dry land, on her side of the river. Only then did she coma out of her trance.
    The shorter man put his head out of the window.
    `Say, miss, didn't we tell you to get in your car and turn it round? You forgotten, or something?'
    Yes, she had forgotten because she had been fearful that the Rover would bog.
    She turned guiltily, and slipped back in her car. She moved the key and pulled the ignition switch. Nothing happened.
    `Oh, no!' she thought. 'Not now! Not a flat battery. It isn't possible.' She used the choke and pulled the starter button again. The engine clanged, then petered. She tried again, this time using the throttle. The engine barely fired, clanged again, then died. She looked in the rear-vision mirror in despair. The Land-Rover had come to a halt a few yards away and had about-turned. The tall man was out of the car bringing with him a tow-line.
    The short man came towards her.
    `You got engine trouble?' he asked, almost too casually. `That why you stopped up here? Or too scared to come across t'other side?'
    Cindie decided he was like a brown wizened monkey with his small round lined face, and his quick jerky movements.
    `There was nothing wrong with the engine earlier,' she said lamely. 'It was all right when I stopped here. I was warned back along the track not to go over the river if it was down