Mass' George Part 33

"Come, get up the tree, Ma.s.s' 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, Ma.s.s' 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, Ma.s.s' George. Big water come roll down, wash um all away. Ah! Make um hase, Ma.s.s' 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 was.h.i.+ng 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 splas.h.i.+ng 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 G.o.d!" he cried at last. "Don't speak. Flood. The settlement deep in water. Rising fast. The boat?"

"Wash away, ma.s.sa," 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 rus.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.sed; 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."