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“If you can’t steer him any other way,” said Buller, “we must get the reins. Lend me your whip.”

“I have dropped that too,” said Podington; “there it floats.”

“Oh, dear,” said Buller, “I guess I’ll have to dive for them; if he were to run away, we should be in an awful fix.”

“Don’t get out! Don’t get out!” exclaimed Podington. “You can reach over the dashboard.”

“As that’s under water,” said Buller, “it will be the same thing as diving; but it’s got to be done, and I’ll try it. Don’t you move now; I am more used to water than you are.”

Mr. Buller took off his hat and asked his friend to hold it. He thought of his watch and other contents of his pockets, but there was no place to put them, so he gave them no more consideration. Then bravely getting on his knees in the water, he leaned over the dashboard, almost disappearing from sight. With his disengaged hand Mr. Podington grasped the submerged coat-tails of his friend.

In a few seconds the upper part of Mr. Buller rose from the water. He was dripping and puffing, and Mr. Podington could not but think what a difference it made in the appearance of his friend to have his hair plastered close to his head.

“I got hold of one of them,” said the sputtering Buller, “but it was fast to something and I couldn’t get it loose.”

“Was it thick and wide?” asked Podington.

“Yes,” was the answer; “it did seem so.”

“Oh, that was a trace,” said Podington; “I don’t want that; the reins are thinner and lighter.”

“Now I remember they are,” said Buller. “I’ll go down again.”

Again Mr. Buller leaned over the dashboard, and this time he remained down longer, and when he came up he puffed and sputtered more than before.

“Is this it?” said he, holding up a strip of wet leather.

“Yes,” said Podington, “you’ve got the reins.”

“Well, take them, and steer. I would have found them sooner if his tail had not got into my eyes. That long tail’s floating down there and spreading itself out like a fan; it tangled itself all around my head. It would have been much easier if he had been a bob-tailed horse.”

“Now then,” said Podington, “take your hat, Thomas, and I’ll try to drive.”

Mr. Buller put on his hat, which was the only dry thing about him, and the nervous Podington started the horse so suddenly that even the sea-legs of Buller were surprised, and he came very near going backward into the water; but recovering himself, he sat down.

“I don’t wonder you did not like to do this, William,” said he. “Wet as I am, it’s ghastly!”

Encouraged by his master’s voice, and by the feeling of the familiar hand upon his bit, the horse moved bravely on.

But the bottom was very rough and uneven. Sometimes the wheels struck a large stone, terrifying Mr. Buller, who thought they were going to upset; and sometimes they sank into soft mud, horrifying Mr. Podington, who thought they were going to drown.

Thus proceeding, they presented a strange sight. At first Mr. Podington held his hands above the water as he drove, but he soon found this awkward, and dropped them to their usual position, so that nothing was visible above the water but the head and neck of a horse and the heads and shoulders of two men.

Now the submarine equipage came to a low place in the bottom, and even Mr. Buller shuddered as the water rose to his chin. Podington gave a howl of horror, and the horse, with high, uplifted head, was obliged to swim. At this moment a boy with a gun came strolling along the road, and hearing Mr. Podington’s cry, he cast his eyes over the water. Instinctively he raised his weapon to his shoulder, and then, in an instant, perceiving that the objects he beheld were not aquatic birds, he dropped his gun and ran yelling down the road toward the mill.