CHAPTER VI

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*ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS*

"The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their voice; the floods lift up their waves."--Ps. xciii. 3.

"Where's the dad, girls?" shouted Joe Blain early in the morning, after the events recorded in the previous chapter, dashing into the room as he yelled.

"Here!" came a voice from the back verandah. Running to the spot indicated by the monosyllable, the lad in breathless accents delivered himself to his paternal relative in this fashion--

"Please, dad, can Tom, Billy, Jimmy, and I have the boat to paddle out on the back-water?"

"Um--er--well, as long as you keep in the slack water I suppose you may; but be very careful, my boy."

"Yes, dad; we'll be careful enough. It's all slack water you know, 'cept where the river water comes in; but that's a long way up, an' we'll be paddlin' mostly about this end of the slack."

An explanation is needed here in order that the reader may intelligently follow the course of events (some of them dramatic enough, and even tragic) which transpired in the course of this eventful cruise.

It has already been stated that the flood waters so surrounded Tareela as to convert the township into an island. It was so practically. Accurately speaking it formed a peninsula, with the narrowest of necks. On the river side there was a broad expanse of boiling, foaming, hurrying waters, narrowing here and there, where the banks rose above their usual height, but stretching far and wide where the river-flats intervened; sometimes touching the horizon, as it were. On the other side lay a body of water, as far removed from motion as the tumultuous stream was instinct with it. There it lay, a wide extent of placid, coffee-coloured water, broken at its surface by fence tops, belts of trees, and partially submerged houses. This great stretch was almost currentless, and the debris that floated on its bosom appeared stationary; though, as a matter of fact, there was a slight outward drift.

The secret of its placidity lay in the fact that the river waters, when they reached a certain height, backed up a blind gully that ran almost parallel with the stream for some distance, then swerved from the river, and widened out till it became a depression of considerable magnitude. This, in turn, merged into a swamp, contiguous to the township on its western side. Low-lying and occupied lands surrounded the swamp for some distance. The town end of these flats, which the river water backing up through the gully had submerged, making a long reach of stagnant waters, formed the area of the boys' row.

The minister's boat was a light yet staunchly built vessel, and belonged to the skiff variety. Her capabilities were to be put to the utmost test. Several of the town boats were moving on the face of the still waters, their occupants busily engaged in capturing the flotsam. The owners of houses, in particular, were anxiously conning their submerged property, or gathering together floating domestic articles. In this way a good deal of house property was recovered.

The boys found enjoyment in the novelty of the cruise. They pulled two oars, taking turns at the rowing. Of the non-rowers, one acted as steersman and the other as bowman for the capture of the flood spoils. Several melons and pumpkins were picked up, but they were not troubling about these. For one reason, they did not want to be encumbered with spoil of that kind, and for another they were keen on pulling about the flooded houses. Their chief and most interesting rescue was a cat and two kittens, which had found an ark of refuge on a barn door.

"I say, boys, we'll have a go at these oranges," said Joe, who was steering, as they were passing a small orangery which was half submerged. This proposal received hearty and unanimous assent. Accordingly Joe selected the most promising tree, and deftly ran alongside its outer branches.

"Look out for snakes!" cried he.

There was abundant cause for warning, for each tree contained a number of serpents, some of which are very deadly. These reptiles were flooded out of their holes in the ground, and from hollow logs and stumps, and made for the trees or any floating timber that offered refuge. Fortunately the snakes were more or less benumbed with the cold, consequently they were the reverse of lively. Had it been otherwise, to have made fast to the tree would have been foolhardy to a degree.

Agreeably to Joe's warning, every eye was skinned and on the look out. Indeed, the tree was fairly swarming with snakes of many sorts and sizes; though for the most part they consisted of "tree" and "carpet" varieties; one of the latter, lying across the top, being fully ten feet in length. These two mentioned varieties are not venomous. The farmers, for the most part, look with a friendly eye upon the carpet species; so called by reason of its tawny and black markings. The carpet snake in summer time is the best of all mousers and ratters. It winds its sinuous way into places impossible to even puss or terrier; and is always a welcome visitor to settlers' barns. There it becomes a pet, and will live on terms of friendship with its primal foe.

There were snakes of a very different order in the orange tree. Among them the "tiger," most aggressive and poisonous of all the genus. There were also specimens of the black and the brown snakes. All these are cobras, and therefore very deadly.

The snakes, as related, were all more or less torpid with cold, and not pugnaciously inclined. The boys, however, were very careful not to disturb them. There was plenty of golden fruit upon the tree, and it was in prime condition. The fruit was neatly cut off the stems by strokes of the paddle blade. When a sufficient quantity was thus plucked, and lay bobbing in the water, they were poked out from the tree by the same means, and secured. The boat lay off a little distance from the tree while the crew indulged in a feed of the luscious fruit. A visit was then paid to a plantain grove, and a quantity, both of green and ripe fruit, was secured.

"Where away now, Joe?" said Tom Hawkins, who was crouched in the bow.

"I vote," replied the one addressed, who in this, as in everything else, was leader of the band,--"I vote we pull up opposite Commodore Hill and have a look at the river." The boy forgot for the moment the promise made to his father to keep mainly about the town end of the back-water.

Commodore Hill was well up the river, and on the other side. The flooded gully by which the water obtained entrance, it has been explained, ran parallel with the river for some distance; in some places being not more than a few yards therefrom. The boys were curious to see the river stretch above the Bend; also to note the numbers of flooded-out settlers who might be camped in that vicinity. Accordingly the boat's bow is turned, and her course shaped in that direction. By this time the river had fallen several feet, and, as a consequence, there was an outward drift of the slack waters, making a gentle current.

"'Member, Joe, what your dad said about takin' the boat into the stream."

"Think I've forgot, stupid!"

"Thought I'd remind you, anyhow," replied the bowman. As a matter of fact, Tom had an uneasy feeling that his mate would not be content when they got to the mouth to remain there without having a dash at the stream.

"Listen to me; I ain't goin' to run any risks. We won't go to the mouth entrance. What we'll do is this: work up to the swamp end, have a look round, and come back again."

With this defined object in view the boat continued its voyage, helped by the current, which, the farther up they proceeded, became stronger, as was to be expected.

But one thing had happened of which the boys were in entire ignorance. And this particular happening was to produce startling and unexpected effects. At a certain spot in the gully, and at a point where it began to deviate from the general stream, there was a branch gully, which bore inwards to within a few yards of the river's brink. When the water was at its highest in the river, that in the lagoon was much higher at this point, inasmuch as the back-water was at the same level as at the entrance, some two miles higher up; the difference in height being the river's fall in that distance. Roughly speaking, the water there was about ten feet higher than that in the river.

The rush of the stream on the river side had caused the bank to give way about this point during the night, and the lagoon, or back-waters, forced themselves into the river through the new channel, which widened considerably as a consequence. On nearing this place the boys became conscious of a quickening of the current.

"My golly, Joe! this big current," said Yellow Billy, who, with Jimmy, was at the oars. "Must be goin' twenty mile."

"Twenty mile! you goose. We're goin' six or seven and that's mighty fast."

"I say, Joe," called Jimmy a second later, the boys having ceased rowing, for there was no further need, "bes' run her ashore, or we'll be carried out. By gosh, she's tearing away!"

"All right, mates, keep cool. There's the old mahogany ahead, we'll tie up there; we'll be there in a minute."

Yes, the boys would need all their coolness, for Joe was reckoning without up-to-date knowledge, and that made all the difference in the world. Rounding a clump of trees at this moment, or ever they were aware the boat fairly sucked into the channel of furiously rushing and tumultuously heaping waters that were finding their level by the newly made short-cut.

"Oh! oh! I--I say!" shouted Tom. "We're being swept into the river! Back water!"

Joe, quicker than the others, had hit the situation, and turned the boat's nose to a clump of bushes, but before the rowers could pick up their oars to help him the boat had swept past. Tom, it is true, made a frantic grasp at the bough, but the way on the boat was so strong that the branch, when the full force of the current bore on her at her momentary check, snapped like a pipe-stem, and the little craft was fair in the turgid stream, which had now the velocity of a water-race. The incident of the half-arrest, however, had turned her head up-stream, which was a providential thing. The river break-away was at most three hundred yards away. To turn the boat into the perpendicular sides of the channel was to court destruction; for, be it said, the maddened waters had excavated the banks until they rose sheer from the water's edge.

The necessities of the case came like an inspiration to Joe. The boat was drifting, as we have said, stern first, the advantage of which will be seen. Save Joe, whom the sense of responsibility braced to immediate

## action, the boys were speechless with consternation. One look at their

blanched faces was sufficient. They were certainly alive to the dangers of the situation.

"Pull, boys! pull with all your might! We'll keep her head up. This'll check her speed a bit. It'll give her steerage way too, and save her gettin' broadside on."

The pullers put every ounce of strength into their strokes, and this was very helpful. The final rush into the cross-current was a most critical moment, and might easily have resulted in disaster. This was averted only by Joe's coolness and dexterity.

"Oars out!" cried he as the boat swept into the angry and turbulent river. Save for shipping some water, and drenching the crew with spray, the little craft weathered the river plunge. An involuntary "Oh!" came from the boys as the boat shot the rapids and soused into the river. Immediately she came under the influence of two currents; that going outward from the chute, and the swift down-river stream.

This effect was to take them instantly well out toward the centre of the flood, with a strong drift which carried the boat into the vicinity of the Bend. The river bend gave the current a direction which set across to the other side. This diagonal movement was accelerated by the chute waters, which retained their impetus, in a measure, for a considerable distance.

Downward then, and cross-wise to the northern bank, the frail craft sped, the sport and play of the watery element. Dangers stood, or rather, drifted thick around the adventurers. Picture for a moment a tiny vessel, some fifteen feet over all, whose timbers are of the proverbial egg-shell thickness, shot into an angry, bubbling cauldron, whose tumultuous waters heaved and swirled, hissed and roared, in inarticulate sound and motion.

That, in itself, were an experience of sufficient magnitude to quicken the blood, test the nerves, and try the courage of the hardiest waterman. Add to the perils of that situation a thousand floating dangers, any one of which might crush that tiny, drifting cockle-shell out of existence, and you have the position which faced and surrounded the affrighted lads on the demon-ridden waters.

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