Part 71 (2/2)

When we reached the great embankment the main part of the water was gone, and in the middle there was the huge gap through which it had escaped.

”Too much water for so frail a dam,” said Uncle Jack sententiously.

”Boys, we must not bemoan our loss in the face of such a catastrophe as this.”

We had no right, for to us the flood, exhausted and spread by its eight-mile race, had been our saving, the greater part of our destruction being by fire, for which we should have recompense; while for the poor creatures who had been in an instant robbed of home and in many cases of relatives, what recompense could there be!

The loss of life was frightful, and the scenes witnessed as first one poor creature and then another was discovered buried in sand and mud after being borne miles by the flood, are too painful to record.

Suffice it that the flood had swept down those eight miles of valley, doing incalculable damage, and leaving traces that remained for years.

The whole of the loss was never known, and till then people were to a great extent in ignorance of the power that water could exercise. In many cases we stood appalled at the changes made high up the valley, and the manner in which ma.s.ses of stonework had been swept along. Stone was plentiful in the neighbourhood and much used in building, and wherever the flood had come in contact with a building it was taken away bodily, to crumble up as it was borne along, and augment the power of the water, which became a wave charged with stones, ma.s.ses of rock, and beams of wood, ready to batter into nothingness every obstacle that stood in its way.

”It seems impossible that all this could be done in a few minutes,” said Uncle d.i.c.k.

”No, not when you think of the power of water,” said Uncle Jack quietly.

”Think of how helpless one is when bathing, against an ordinary wave.

Then think of that wave a million times the size, and tearing along a valley charged with _debris_, and racing at you as fast as a horse could gallop.”

We came back from the scene of desolation ready to make light of our own trouble, and the way in which my uncles worked to help the sufferers down in the lower part of the town gave the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the work of many months.

There was so much trouble in the town and away up the valley, so much suffering to allay, that the firing of our works by the despicable scoundrels who worked in secret over these misdeeds became a very secondary matter, and seemed to cause no excitement at all.

”But you must make a stir about this,” said Mr Tomplin. ”The villains who did that deed must be brought to justice. The whole affair will have to be investigated, and I'm afraid we shall have to begin by arresting that man of yours--the watcher Searby.”

But all this was not done. Searby came and gave a good account of himself--how he had been deluded away, and then so beaten with sticks that he was glad to crawl home; and he needed no words to prove that he had suffered severely in our service.

”Let's set the prosecution aside for the present,” said Uncle Jack, ”and repair damages. We can talk about that when the work is going again.”

This advice was followed out, and the insurance company proving very liberal, as soon as they were satisfied of the place having been destroyed by fire, better and more available buildings soon occupied the position of the old, the machinery was repaired, and in two months the works were in full swing once more.

It might almost have been thought that the flood swept away the foul element that originated the outrages which had disgraced the place. Be that as it may, the burning of our works was almost the last of these mad attempts to stop progress and intimidate those who wished to improve upon the old style of doing things.

I talked to Pannell and Stevens about the fire afterwards and about having caught sight of three men landing from a raft and going down towards the river just before the flood came.

But they both tightened their lips and shook their heads. They would say nothing to the point.

Pannell was the more communicative of the two, but his remarks were rather enigmatical.

”Men jynes in things sometimes as they don't like, my lad. Look here,”

he said, holding a glowing piece of steel upon his anvil and giving it a tremendous thump. ”See that? I give that bit o' steel a crack, and it was a bad un, but I can't take that back, can I?”

”No, of course not, but you can hammer the steel into shape again.”

”That's what some on us is trying to do, my lad, and best thing towards doing it is holding one's tongue.”

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