Chapter 17

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_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

"Here, what's the matter?" I cried; and at that moment Sarah came running out again, looking inquiringly from one to the other.

"What was that noise?" she said.

"De ribber--de ribber," panted Hannibal. Then he tried to say more, but he was so excited that his command of English failed him, and he turned to Pomp, who had just come back from the hut, and said something to him volubly in his own tongue. Pomp's mouth opened wide, and he stared wildly at his father. Then turning to me, he caught hold of my arm.

"Come, get up the tree, Mass' George. Pull missie up the tree."

"What for? What's the matter?" I said, as the dull roaring seemed to be coming back.

"Ribber run all ober; water take away de boat, and all gone."

"River running over? What do you mean--a flood?"

"Yes, dat's flood. Come, get up a tree."

"Oh, nonsense! Come and see."

"No, no, Mass' George, mustn't go," cried Pomp, seizing my arm, and I was making for the path leading to the stream. "Hark! Hear dat?"

I certainly did hear a low, ominous roar rising and falling in the air, but it sounded like distant thunder dying away. I began to be startled now, for the look of dread in Hannibal's features was not without its effect upon me. Just then Pomp began to drag Sarah toward the biggest cypress about the place, chattering to her excitedly the while.

"No, no, I can't; my good boy, no," she cried. "What! Get up the tree? Oh, nonsense! Here, Master George, my dear boy, what does it all mean?"

"I don't know. I'm as puzzled as you are, but it means that we're going to have a flood. I wish my father was here."

"Look here, Pomp," I said; "we need not climb a tree; it's a great chance if the water reaches as high as the garden;" and I looked round, thinking how wise my father had been to select this spot, which was the only rising bit of ground near, though he had not chosen it on account of fears of flood, but so as to be well above the swamp damp and mists.

Hannibal said something excitedly to his son.

"Yes; climb up a tree, Mass' George. Big water come roll down, wash um all away. Ah! Make um hase, Mass' George." He seized me by the arm, and pushed me toward the tree, which was about a hundred feet away down the slope at the back, but almost instantaneously a wave of water came washing and sighing through the forest slowly but surely, and lapped onward as it swept out from the forest line at a rate which, deliberate as it seemed, was sufficient for it to reach the big cypress before we could; and I stopped short appalled and looked round for a place of refuge.

The water came on, and in another minute would have been up to where we stood, but it shrank back again toward the forest, and I felt that the danger was over, when to my great delight I heard a shout, the splashing of some one running through water, and my father came into sight to run up the slope to the place where we stood, closely followed by Morgan, and both at first too much exhausted to speak.

"Thank God!" he cried at last. "Don't speak. Flood. The settlement deep in water. Rising fast. The boat?"

"Wash away, massa," cried Pomp.

"Ah!" cried my father, despairingly. "Quick, all of you. It is coming now."

As he spoke I heard the deep roar increasing, and after a glance round, my father pointed to the tree.

"We must get up into that. No: too late."

For the flood came in a great, smooth, swelling wave out from the edge of the forest, and then glided toward us, rising rapidly up the slope.

"I'm with you," cried my father, and catching Sarah by the hand, he dragged her into the house, seized the rough ladder, and made her climb up silent and trembling into the loft, where, before we could join her, the water was over the doorsteps and had risen to our knees.

But the moment Sarah was in the loft, my father ordered Pomp and me to follow, then Hannibal and Morgan, coming up last himself, by which time the water was up to his waist.

As soon as he was in the little low loft, my father forced out the wooden bars across one of the windows and looked out, to take in the extent of our danger, and I pressed close to his side.

"Is there any danger?" I said, rather huskily.

"I hope not, my boy," he said, sadly. "The question is whether the house will be swept right away. Everything depends upon whether it comes with a fierce rash, or rises slowly."

I looked round and could see that the flood kept coming in little swells or waves from the edge of the forest, the water rushing out from among the tall trunks, and then seeming to undulate gently toward the house. The garden was covered deeply, and where I had been accustomed to look at the pleasant sand-walks, and the young fruit-trees, all was now water, out of which rose the tops of trees here and there.

The thatched roof of the blacks' hut was just visible as a grey point seen amongst the tree-tops, and all at once I saw it rise up high out of the water and then settle down again and float slowly away.

At that moment my father uttered a low sigh, and then there was another loud dull roar, and a great wave came rolling out of the edge of the forest, swelling onward, the tops of the trees bending towards us as it came on and on slowly, but with a force that bore all before it, and I felt my father's hand clasp mine in his.

"Quick!" he whispered; "climb out, and get on the ridge of the roof."

"Are you coming too, father?" I said.

"Out, quick!" he answered, but before I was clear of the window, he had hold of me and half drew me back, holding to me tightly, and not without need, for there was a dull thud, the house quivered from the tremendous blow, and I felt the water leap over me, deluging me from head to foot, and making me gasp for breath as I struggled to get back.

"Quiet!" said my father, sternly, and I remained still, expecting to feel the house swept away, to go floating like the roof of the hut, right away.

But it stood firm, the wave gliding off, but leaving the water now rippling up between the boards, telling that the lower floor was filled, and the flood rising through the ceiling.

An anxious ten minutes ensued, during which wave after wave came rolling out of the forest, each to deliver a heavy blow at our house, making the roof crack, but never yield, and with the last came so great an influx of water that our position rapidly began to grow untenable.

My father made no effort to induce me to climb up after the first wave struck us, till the water had risen well up into the loft, when he said quietly--

"Up with you, Morgan, on to the ridge."

"Begging your pardon, sir, I--"

"Silence, sir! Out and up with you, and be ready to take your wife's hands."

It was the officer spoke then, and Morgan crept out through the rough dormer window, and directly after shouted briefly--

"Ready."

"Now, Sarah, my good woman, be brave and firm; creep out here," said my father. "Don't think about the water, and grasp your husband's hands at once."

I heard Sarah give a deep sigh, and she caught at and pressed my shoulder as she passed; then with an activity I should not have expected of her, she crept out of the window, my father holding her dress tightly; there was a loud scrambling sound heard above the hissing and roaring of the water, and my father spoke again.

"Safe!" he muttered. Then aloud, "Now, boys--both of you--up, and on to the ridge."

"You first, Pomp," I said; and the boy scrambled out, and I followed, the task being, of course, mere play to us as we crept up the well-timbered roof, and got outside of the ridge-pole.

We had not been there a minute before Hannibal and my father were beside us, and the waste of water all around.

"Not much too soon," said my father, cheerfully. "Do you see, George?"

"Yes, father," I said, feeling rather white, or as I suppose any one would feel if he were white, for the water was level now with the bottom of the window; "will it rise higher?"

"I am afraid so," he said, gravely, as he looked sharply round at the various trees standing out of the water. "Yes," he continued, with the firmness of one who has made his decision; "Morgan, you swim well, and the current sets in the right direction. If the house gives way--"

"Oh, but it won't, sir; we made it too strong for that."

"Then if the water compels us to leave here, do you think you can support your wife to that tree, if I swim beside and help you?"

"I will support her there, sir," said Morgan, firmly.

"That's right. Hannibal, you can easily reach there?"

"Yes, sah."

"And you boys can, of course. We may have to take to that tree, for I think it will stand."

We all declared our ability to reach the new refuge, and Pomp gave me a nod and a smile, for it was the tree we had before meant to reach; and then we sat there awe-struck, and wondering whether the house would give way, and be swept from its position.

But now no fresh waves came rolling out of the forest, only a current swept gently past, and after a long silence my father said--

"Yes, that must be it. A terrible series of storms must have been occurring, hundreds, perhaps a thousand miles away up in the highlands and mountains, gathering force, till a flood has swept down to here like a series of huge waves passing down the rivers, and flooding all their banks. The first violence has passed, and I think we may hope that the waters will go down as rapidly as they rose."

But his words did not seem likely to prove correct, for as we sat there, with evening creeping on, it was plain to see that the water was still rising--very slowly, but creeping steadily on. At first it was only level with the dormer window; then by slow degrees it was half way up; and as darkness was coming on, the top of the window was nearly reached.

The roof was high in pitch, so that we were well out of the reach of the cold current as yet; but calculating by the rate of advance, it was plain that before many hours had passed the water would have risen to us; and the question my father had to ask us all was, whether we should stay there in the hope that at any time the highest point of the flood might have been reached, or try and swim at once to the great cypress, and take refuge among its boughs.

"What do you say, Morgan?" said my father at last. "Shall we go or stay?"

"Don't know what to say, sir. We are dry now, but if we swim to the tree we shall all be drenched, except these two blacks, and they can easily wring out their things. Then it means sitting in our wet clothes half perished through the night. I don't so much mind, but it would be terrible for her."

"Don't study me, sir, please," said Sarah, firmly. "Do what is for the best."

"I think what you say is right, Morgan. We can but swim to the tree when the water rises too high for us to stay here longer."

"But you don't really think it'll get any higher, sir, do you?"

"I am afraid to say what I think," replied my father. "We are in a vast continent whose rivers are enormous. You see the water is still rising."

"Oh yes, sir, it's still rising," grumbled Morgan; "but I wish it would keep still. Going to stop or go, sir? If we go it had better be at once."

"We will stay," said my father; and as terrible a vigil as ever poor creatures kept commenced.

Fortunately for us the night was glorious, and as the last gleam of daylight passed away, the great stars came out rapidly, till the darkened heavens were one blaze of splendour, while the scene was made more grand by the glittering being reflected from the calm surface of the waters all around, till we seemed to be sitting there in the midst of a sea of gold, with blackened figures standing up dotted here and there, and beyond them the dark line of the forest.

The silence for a time was awful, for the current now ran very slowly, and the rise of the water was so insidious that it could hardly be perceived.

From time to time my father tried to raise our spirits by speaking hopefully and prayerfully of our position, but it was hard work to raise the spirits of poor creatures in so perilous a strait, and after a time he became silent, and we all sat wondering, and bending down to feel if the water was still rising.

Then all at once a curious thrill of horror ran through me, for the hideous bellow of an alligator was heard, and Morgan's hand went involuntarily to his pocket.

"Got knives, everybody?" he said. "Don't want them cowardly beasts to tackle us now."

"It is hardly likely," said my father, but at that moment as he spoke Pomp touched my arm.

"Dah 'gator!" he said, pointing.

I could see nothing, only that there was a broken lustre of the stars reflected on the water; and if it was one of the monsters it slowly glided away.

Then it began to grow colder and colder, and as I sat and gazed before me, the dark trees standing above the flood grew misty, and a pleasant sensation was stealing over me, when I felt my arm grasped tightly, and I gave quite a jump.

"No, no, my boy!" said my father, sternly. "You must not give way to that."

"I--I--" I faltered.

"You were dropping off to sleep," said my father, firmly. "You must master the desire. Hannibal, take care that Pomp does not go to sleep."

"Him sleep long time, sah," said the black. "Wake um up?"

"No; let him sleep; only keep watch over him, or he may slide into the water."

There was silence again, only broken by a low sigh or two from Sarah, to whom Morgan muttered something again and again as the time crawled slowly on and the waters still rose higher and higher toward our feet.

Never did the night seem so long before, and the only relief I had in my wearisome position was derived from the efforts I had to make from time to time to master the terrible feeling of drowsiness which would keep coming on.

Every now and then there was a little buzz of conversation, and I made out that my father asked every one's opinion, and made all try to make out how much higher the water had risen, so as to excite their interest, though it was all plain enough.

And so the night wore on, with the flood gliding up and up, and strange splashings and bellowings heard from time to time, now far off, now nearer, and every eye was strained to see if the creatures that made these noises were appearing.

Then all was silent again, and we waited, with the water still rising.

All at once I caught at my father's arm.

"What's that?" I whispered, in awe-stricken tones, for there was a curious quivering thrill in the timbers of the house, and it felt to me as if it was at last yielding to the presence of the water, and preparing to break up and float away.

My father did not answer for a few moments, and I knew that he was listening intently.

"I am not sure," he said at last. "I think--and hope--that it was something heavy swept against the house, and that it has passed on."

The alarm died out, and we sat either in silence or talking together of the state of affairs at the settlement, and the possibility of help coming in the shape of boats at daybreak, when Pomp's sharp voice suddenly rang out--

"Hi! Who did dat? Who pour cole water on nigger leg?"

In spite of the cold and misery and peril of my position, I could not help laughing heartily as I heard Hannibal speaking angrily.

Pomp retorted just as sharply, but though his father spoke in their West African tongue the boy replied in his broken English, to which he was daily becoming more accustomed, while his father acquired it far more slowly.

"How I know?" cried Pomp, irritably. "I tought Mass' George play trick. Hi! Mass' George, you dah?"

"Yes," I said. "What is it?"

"You got anyfing to eat? I so dreffle hungry."

"No, Pomp," I replied, sadly; "nothing at all."

"You been sleep, sah?" he continued, turning to my father.

"No, my lad, no," replied my father, good-humouredly, and I heard the boy yawn loudly.

There was no need to measure the water now, or to be in doubt as to whether it was rising, for it had wetted our feet as we sat astride, or eased the position by sitting in the ordinary way. But the stars still shone, and the night dragged its slow way on.

"Will morning never come?" I said, despairingly to my father at last. "Oh, I am so--so sleepy."

He took my hand and pressed it. "Try and bear it all like a man, my boy," he whispered. "There is a woman with us, and you have not heard her make a single complaint."

"No; it was very selfish and cowardly of me, father," I whispered back, "and I will try."

I did, and I conquered, for I know that not a single complaint afterwards escaped my lips.

And higher still rose the black, gold-spangled water over our ankles, creeping chilly and numbing up our legs, and we knew that before long the effort would have to be made to reach the great black mound of boughs which we could dimly see a short distance away.

"How far do you think it is from daybreak, Morgan?" said my father suddenly, after what seemed to me a terrible time of suspense.

"Don't know, sir. Daren't guess at it," said Morgan, despondently. "Time has gone so slowly that it may be hours off yet."

"No," said my father, "it cannot be very far away. If I could feel sure I would still wait before making our attempt, but I am afraid to wait long. We are getting chilled and numb."

"Just so, sir," said Morgan, sadly. "You think for us all, sir, and give your orders. I'll do my best."

There was another pause, and I heard my father draw a deep breath, and then speak sharply--

"Well, George," he said; "how do you feel for your swim?"

I tried to answer, but a feeling of despair choked me, as I looked across at the dark boughs, thought of the depth of water between, and that I could not swim there now.

"Oh, come, come, lad, pick up," cried my father. "The distance is nothing. I shall want you to help me."

"Yes, father," I said, despondently; and I heard him draw a deep, catching breath.

But he knew that on him lay the task of saving us all, and he said cheerfully--

"You can easily swim that, Hannibal?"

"Yes, sah," said the black, quietly.

"And you, Pompey?"

"Eh, massa? Swim dat? Yes, Pomp swim all dat, sah."

"We shall be forced to start directly," said my father. "Do you hear, Morgan? We must not wait to be floated off."

"No, sir," replied Morgan; and his voice sounded sad and grave, and a low sigh came from by his side. Then arose in a low voice--

"Master George, dear, could you get here?"

"Yes," I said, trying to stir myself; and, catching hold of my father's hand, I stood up with a foot on each side of the ridge, stiff, cramped, and with the water streaming from me.

"That's right," said my father, cheerfully. "Mind how you go, my lad. It will stretch your legs. Take hold of Hannibal; don't slip and get a ducking."

He said all this cheerily, and I knew it was to encourage us all; but as I passed by him, stepping right over his legs, he whispered, "Speak cheerily to the poor woman."

"Yes, father," I whispered back.

"Don't keep him, Sarah," said my father. "I want to come there myself; I shall swim by your other side."

She did not answer, and I crept by Hannibal and then over Pomp, who gave me a hug, his teeth chattering as he said--

"Oh, I say, Mass' George, I so dreffle cold. Water right up a-top."

The next moment I was seated again on the ridge, feeling that the water really was right up to the top, as Sarah's cold arms closed round me, and her wet face was pressed to mine as she kissed me.

"Good-bye; God bless you, my darling!"

"Don't, don't talk like that," I said. "We'll all mount the tree, and the water will go down."

A piteous, despairing sigh came into my ear, and I felt Morgan's hand seek mine, and give me what I knew was meant for a farewell grip.

A bad preparation for a swim to save one's life, and the chill of the rising water began now to increase as I fancied it made a leap at us, as if to snatch us off and bear us away to the far-off dark shores beyond which there was a newer life.

"Come, George, my lad. Back with you," cried my father; "I want to come there. Be ready every one; we must start in a few minutes."

"Yes, father," I said; and I was on my way back, passing Pomp, who began to follow me, and together we crept, splashing through the water, holding tight by Hannibal, and then by my father.

"You too, my lad?" he said, kindly.

"Yes, massa," replied Pomp.

"Swim steadily, both of you. The distance is very short, and there is nothing to mind." Then as if to himself--"Oh, if I could only tell when morning would come!"

"Massa want know when time to get up to go to work?" said Pomp, sharply.

"Yes."

"Oh, quite soon, sah. Sun come up dreckly, and warm poor little nigger; I so dreffle cold."

"How do you know?" cried my father, clinging as it were like a drowning man to a straw of hope.

"Oh, Pomp know, sah. Dah! You ope bofe ear, and listum to lil bird. Dat him. Lil blackum yallow bird, go _pinkum-winkum-wee_."

A dead silence fell upon us, and what had been inaudible to me, but quite plain to the boy, came faintly from the distance--the twittering cry of a bird in one of the trees at the edge of the forest; and directly after it was answered from far away, and I felt my father's cold wet hand grasp mine as he exclaimed hoarsely--"Thank God."

I could hear him breathing hard, and the tears ran down my cheeks as my head rested on his breast, and I clung to him for a few seconds.

Then he drew another deep breath, and his voice and manner were entirely changed, as he cried out--

"Do you hear, Morgan? Daybreak in a few minutes, and the sun before long. I think we could hold out here for an hour at a pinch. We shall have our swim long before that, and with heaven's good light to help us safely there."

"Hurrah!" shouted Morgan, hoarsely. And then we all joined in a hearty cheer, while the cry of the bird rang out directly after from close at hand. _

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