Part 45 (1/2)

”I did think you had this matter on your mind, Benet,” says she, ”and I own I have noticed the rising of the waters with mistrust. Indeed,” adds she, ”you and I are not alone in this apprehension.”

”Why, who else is there here to heed such matters?” says I.

”Look,” says she, pointing before her through the opening as we sat in our hut.

Casting my eyes as she directed, I noticed a troop of acutis with their heads to the ground and their ears cast back.

”They have been driven from their holes by the water,” says she, ”and are so subdued by fear that they have let me take them up in my arms.”

”They know they are safe here; which we may take for our own a.s.surance,”

says I.

”So I think,” says she. ”A change must come ere long. Indeed, the air feels different already.”

And a change did come the very next night; but such as we had not bargained for. About midnight there broke over us the most terrific storm of thunder and lightning I ever knew, and with it the rain came down in such torrents that I thought the weight of it must burst the lianes and bring our shelter down about our ears. This continued all the night, and I could not sleep a wink for thinking that mayhap the end of the world was at hand, and we were to be drowned by a second flood, despite the rainbow.

About daybreak Lady Biddy called to me.

”Benet,” says she, ”here's one of those poor acutis crept right into my arms.”

Upon that I sprang to my feet and went outside, fearing the worst. And there, in the half-light, the whole of the ground about me was alive with the poor acutis, all so numbed with the wet and terror that they had not the sense to move out of my way; nor did they even cry out when I trod upon them. I had not gone a score of paces when I felt the sand yielding beneath me, and caught sight of water amidst the trees.

”Cousin,” says I, running back, ”we must prepare to go at once.”

”I am dressed, Benet,” says she cheerfully; ”what can I do?”

I could not at once reply for admiring of the helpful, ready character of that dear woman (thus revealed), but paused to gaze on her in wonder and love; however, this was no time for long delay, so we presently got all the things out of the hut and placed them ready to our hand; and then I unfastened the lianes that held up our canoe, and we had now but a short distance to haul it ere we reached the water. Then we stowed all our poor possessions in their place, and launched the canoe amidst the trees. When it lay fairly afloat I begged my lady to get in. But she hesitated, with a mournful look behind her.

”Benet,” says she, ”if it won't make your labor of rowing more difficult, I should like to take some of those poor dear conies away.

'Tis so pitiful to leave them here to die.”

I helped her with a willing and ready heart to carry as many of the half-dead acutis to the canoe as we could take, and then we got in, and I pushed my way through the trees out into the stream.

CHAPTER LVIII.

WE FIND A HAVEN OF REST IN A WONDROUS LAKE; BUT ARE NIGH BEING SUCKED INTO A WHIRLPOOL.

We swiftly left the island behind us, for this lake (as I call it), which had been pretty still when we entered it, was now hurrying along with the force of any mill-stream. The water was orange-tawny with the mud and sand it had swept up in its course, and littered all over with great trees and bushes; and this wreck on it, with the desolation all around, and the vast extent and the mighty force of it, did strike us both with awe and a feeling of our littleness and helplessness, so that we could not speak for some time. However, we presently found some consolation in perceiving that the rain had ceased to fall, and that betwixt the black clouds was here and there a rift of blue, which was the first we had seen of the sky for six weeks or thereabouts; and with this we grew more cheery, and even the conies began to p.r.i.c.k their ears and nibble of some herb we had torn up for them the last thing before putting off.

My attention was soon diverted from these trifles by more serious matters; for being carried to that end of the lake whence the waters issued in a narrow pa.s.sage betwixt two high rocks as through the neck of a funnel, it was with the utmost ado I kept our canoe in mid-stream and clear of those bushes and trees which, as I have said, were scattered abroad, and here by the confluence of the flood we were brought into such close quarters that at every turn the canoe was threatened to be nipped in their embrace or swept into the midst of the wreck and lumber that ground painfully against the banks, where our frail bark (as I may truly call it) would in a moment have been crushed like a thing of paper, and we with it.

To make matters worse, the course of the river was impeded by sundry huge rocks standing up here and there, which threw the stream into violent convulsions of eddies and torrents that no force of man could resist, so that one minute we faced one way, and the next another, to our great confusion and imminent peril, for out of all this trouble of rocks, bushes, trees, dead carca.s.ses of cuacuparas,[5] and the like, there was promise of a speedy end (by death) to all our troubles; and certain I am that but for the help of Providence we had never come out of these straits alive.

[Footnote 5: A sort of stag, as big as any Devons.h.i.+re cow.--B. P.]

How long we were in this pickle, whether five minutes or five hours, I know not; but I take it few men are so plagued in eighty years. And not one instant of repose was there either for me or my dear lady (who throughout kept a cool head, and helped with one of the oars to stave off this or that floating thing as surely and stoutly as any man), for ere we were out of one danger we were into another, and destruction menacing us on all sides.

It seemed that our condition could be no worse than it was; but whilst I was laying this fool's flattery to my heart, for its encouragement, my Lady Biddy cries suddenly: