CHAPTER XXVIII
A CRY FROM THE DARKNESS
Within a few seconds after McGovern felt the water about his ankles ittouched his knees. He was still able to make progress, and with thesame despairing desperation as before, struggled onward.
At the next step he went to his waist, and fell with a splash.
"I'm drowning!" he gasped; but fortunately for him he had plunged intoa small hollow, out of which he was swept the next moment, and, withno effort on his part, flung upon his feet.
The roar was overpowering. It seemed as if he were in the appallingswirl of Niagara, with the raging waters all around him clamoring forhis life. He grasped a limb which brushed his face, and the next stepshowed that he had struck higher ground.
But the torrent was ascending faster than he. It was gaining in spiteof all he could do, but hope was not yet dead. Another step and thewater was below his waist, and he was able to make progress with thehelp of his hands. When he lifted one foot it was swept to one side,and only by throwing his full weight upon it was he able to sustainhimself.
He had now reached a point where the trees were not so near together.While this enabled him to see something of his surroundings, it gavethe sweeping volume greater power, and he was in despair again.
But the dim light of the moon showed that at that moment the boundaryof the current was only a few paces beyond him. Could he pass thatintervening distance before it further expanded he would be safe.
Rousing his flagging energies he fought on, cheered by the view of afigure on the margin, which had evidently caught sight of him.
"A little farther and you will be all right!" shouted the stranger,stepping into the torrent and extending his hand.
"I can't do it!" moaned McGovern, struggling on, but gaining no fasterthan the terrible enemy against which he was fighting.
"Yes, you will! don't give up! take my hand!"
McGovern reached out, but he was short of grasping the friendly help.Then the brave friend stepped into the rushing torrent at the risk ofhis own life, and, griping the cold hand, exerted himself with thepower of desperation, and dragged the helpless youth into the shallowmargin.
"Don't stop!" he shouted, still pulling him forward; "we are not yetout of danger!"
Helped by the stranger who had appeared so opportunely, the twosplashed through the flood, which seemed striving to prevent theirescape, and would drag them down in spite of themselves.
But the rescuer was cool-headed, strong, and brave, and he kept theweak McGovern going with a speed that threatened to fling himprostrate in spite of himself.
The ground rose more sharply than before. A few more hurried steps andtheir feet touched dry land. Still a few paces farther and they weresaved.
The torrent might roar and rage, but it could not seize them. They hadeluded its wrath, like the hunter who leaps aside from the bound ofthe tiger.
McGovern stood for a minute panting, limp, and so exhausted that hecould hardly keep his feet. His companion did not speak, but kept hisplace beside him, curiously gazing into his countenance, and waitinguntil he should fully recover before addressing him.
The youth speedily regained his self-command, and for the first timelooked in his rescuer's face. They were now beyond the shadow of thetrees, and could discern each other's features quite distinctly in thefavoring moonlight.
"Well!" he exclaimed, "I think you and I have met before."
"I shouldn't be surprised if we had," was the reply; "you tried todestroy my bicycle last night."
"And you saved me from drowning in the mill-pond."
"I believe I gave you a little help in that way."
"And now you have saved my life again."
"I am glad I was able to do something for you, for you seemed to be ina bad way."
"I should think I was! If you had been a minute later it would havebeen the last of Jim McGovern, and I tell you, Dick Halliard, he wasin no shape to die."
No person escaping death by such a close call could throw off at oncethe moral effect of his rescue. The bad youth was humbled, frightened,and repentant. He was standing in the presence of him who had twicebeen the instrument of saving his life in a brief space of time, andthat, too, after McGovern had tried to do him an injury.
"I don't know whether you can forgive me," he said, in the meekest oftones, "but I beg your pardon all the same."
"I have no feeling against you," replied Dick, "and though you soughtto do me an injury, you inflicted the most on yourself; but," addedthe young hero, starting up, "where are Bob Budd and Tom Wagstaff?"
"Heaven only knows! They must be drowned," replied McGovern, glancingat the raging waters so near him with a shudder, as if he still fearedthey would reach and sweep him away.
"Where did you leave them? How did you become separated?"
"We were in our tent when we heard the waters coming. We felt wecouldn't help each other, and all made a break, some in one directionand some another. They must have been drowned, just as I would havebeen but for you."
But what could he do to help them? He was standing as near to thetorrent as he dare. It had already submerged the spot where the tenthad been erected to the depth of twenty feet at least. Bob and Tomcould not have stayed there had they wished, nor was there any meansof reaching them.
"I wish I could do something," said Dick, as if talking with himself,"but I see no way."
"There is none," added McGovern, who was speedily recovering from theordeal through which he had passed, "but it is too bad; I would doanything I could for poor Bob and Tom."
It seemed hopeless indeed, but Dick could not stand idle, knowing thatothers near him might be in most imminent need of help.
"If they are alive, which I don't believe," said McGovern, "they musthave drifted below us by this time."
"I agree with you," replied Dick, moving slowly along the margin ofthe torrent, which, on account of the unevenness of the ground,encroached at times and compelled them to retreat for a brief space;"I should think if they were alive they would call for help."
"Did you hear _me_?" asked McGovern, looking round in the face ofhis companion.
"Yes, though I happened to be quite near when the flood came, and hadto scramble myself to get out of the way--"
"Hark!" interrupted McGovern, "that was a voice!"
"So it was, and it is below us!"
As he spoke he broke into a run, with the larger youth at his heels.They had caught a cry, but it was so smothered and brief that it wasimpossible to tell the point whence it came, except that it was belowthem.
"Help! help! for the love of Hiven, help!"
"That's the voice of Terry Hurley," said Dick, who recalled that theIrishman lived with his family a short distance away, and in the pathof the flood. In the whirl of events young Halliard had forgotten thisman and his wife and their two little girls.
But that cry showed they were in imminent extremity, and possibly aidmight reach them in time. McGovern, since his own rescue, was asanxious as the brave Dick to extend assistance to whomsoever were inperil.
The calamity had come with such awful suddenness that not the leastprecautionary step could be taken. It was too early for neighbors toarrive, but all Piketon and the vicinity would be on the spot in thecourse of a few hours.
A brief run brought the boys in sight of the imperiled family. Thehumble home of Terry Hurley did not stand in the centre of the valley,like the tent of the Piketon Rangers, but well up to one side. Thus itescaped the full force of the current, which, however, was violentenough to fill the lower story in a twinkling, and threaten to carrythe structure from its foundations.
The two little girls, Maggie and Katie, had just said their prayers attheir bedside in the upper story, and Terry was in the act of lightinghis pipe when the shock came. The husband and wife might have escapedby dashing out of the door and fleeing, but neither thought for aninstant of doing so. Both would have preferred to perish rather thanabandon the innocent ones above them.
Calling to his wife to follow, Terry bounded up a few steps and dashedto the bedside. At the same instant that he seized one in his arms,his wife caught up the younger.
"Whither shall we go, Terry?" asked the distracted mother, starting todescend the stairs.
"Not there! not there!" he called, "but to the roof!"
By standing on a chair the trap-door was easily reached and thecovering thrown back. Then he pushed Maggie through, warning her tohold fast, and the rest would instantly join her.
Next little Katie was passed upward.
"Now," said Terry, "I will jine the wee spalpeens and thin give ye alift, Delia."
The Irishman was a powerful man, and the task thus far was of theeasiest character. He drew himself through the door on the roof, andextending one brawny hand to his wife, was in the act of lifting herafter him, when a scream from Maggie caused him to loose his hold andlook round.
"What's the matter wid ye, Maggie?" he asked.
"Kate has just rolled off the roof!" was the terrifying reply.
The Campers Out; Or, The Right Path and the Wrong Page 28