They only heard the dreadful rushing of the
waters, the sighing of the winds, and from time to time the crash of a
falling house.
Mrs. Swift waited with bated breath for the return of her husband and
his faithful assistants. An hour had passed and nothing could be heard
or seen of them. Her fears increased each moment. At last the father
returned, with saddened countenance. One of his assistants said: "It was
impossible to reach your house, my good woman; the water was too deep.
We were in water up to our necks and were almost drowned."
Then the other man spoke up and said: "But don't give up hope, for many
brave men have been helping, all along the way. Before the water got the
upper hand, they went about with lanterns, rousing the people. Perhaps
they have cared for the baby in its cradle."
Many people, laden with household goods, reached the hill from time to
time, but the cradle never appeared and no one knew the whereabouts of
the baby.
After the dreadful night, the dawn at last broke forth; rain and storm
subsided; the clouds rolled away and the morning sun streaked the
horizon in flaming red.
From the people gathered about the fire, there arose a dreadful cry of
dismay. By the morning light, they saw that half of their village had
been submerged.
Mr. Swift's house, with many others, had been swept away by the flood.
Many a house stood roofless and in a state of threatened collapse.
People cried for the loss of their homes, but Mrs.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74