CHAPTER VIII
REFUGEES OF THE ROOF
"Hi! here's more trouble!" cried Bandy-legs, while they wereapproaching the inundated farmhouse, borne on the sweeping current ofthe flood.
"What's the matter now?" called Steve, so anxious about the safety ofthose who clung to the sloping roof of the doomed building that hewould not even turn his head all the way around, but shot the wordsback over his shoulder.
"Why, the blooming old wreck's going all to pieces, so that we'll eachhave to pick out a timber, and straddle mighty soon, if it keeps onthis way!" Bandy-legs informed him.
This caused Max to take a little survey in order to satisfy himselfthat what the other said was true. What he discovered did not bringmuch assurance of comfort. Just as the sharp-eyed chum had declared,the remnant of the broken bridge was being by degrees torn apart by theviolence of its fall and the subsequent action of conflicting currentsof water.
It materially changed his plans, formed on the spur of the moment, whenthey had discovered the victims of the flood on the roof of thefarmhouse. Instead of taking them off, as he had at first intended, itnow began to look as though he and his comrades would be compelled toseek refuge alongside the girls.
This was not a pleasant thought, for Max could see that the buildingwas very near the collapsing point as it was, and might topple over atany minute.
Max was, however, a boy who would accept what fortune offered, and dothe best he could with it. Once on the roof, they could turn theirattention to some other method of escape; at any rate they had nochoice in the matter.
"We've got to climb up where they are, that's plain," he observed; "andif this stuff strikes the end of the house we'll be lucky enough."
"Then do we have to let it go, and be marooned up there?" askedBandy-legs, in a forlorn tone.
"Looks that way," Steve went on to say, and somehow he did not seem toshare the gloom that had gripped Bandy-legs, possibly because it beganto look as though the glorious chance had come at last to show thegirls he could do his duty without any boasting, and never meant topose as a great hero.
"But why can't we hold on to some of these timbers, and make a jollyold raft?" Bandy-legs continued eagerly.
"Hurrah! that's the t-t-ticket!" Toby was heard to remark; "I never yetread about a R-r-robinson C-c-crusoe but what he made him a r-r-raft!"
"It might be a good idea, boys," admitted Max, "but I'm afraid you'llfind it more than you can manage. Then besides, even if you did getsome of the timbers to stick there, how could you fasten them togetherso as to make that raft? Show me your ropes and I'll join in with youmighty quick. But it isn't going to be the easiest thing going toclimb up that wobbly roof; and we'll all be glad to find ourselvesperching up on that ridge-pole with the girls, I think."
That dampened the enthusiasm and ardor of Bandy-legs considerably.Like the rest of them he realized that what Max said was about true,and that they could not expect to pay much attention to the partingtimbers, once they reached the house. It would be all they could do toget up on the roof.
"Are we going to hit up against it, Max?" asked Steve, strugglingbetween hope and fear, as they rapidly bore down toward the partlysubmerged farm building.
"Yes, there's no doubt about that," came the quick reply; "and come tothink of it, we can get up where they are better by working our wayaround to that lower end to the right. Every fellow look out forhimself when the time comes."
"Give us the word, Max?" Steve asked.
"All right, when you hear me shout 'now,' make your jump, and be sureyou've picked out the right place beforehand, or you may drop backagain."
Max could say no more, because they were so close to the little islandin the midst of the raging flood that he had to conserve his breath inorder to make a successful leap himself.
On the roof crouched the two girls, Bessie French and Mazie Dunkirk,together with a little lame cousin of the former, a girl of abouteight. All of them were greatly interested in the coming of the boys,and stared eagerly at the remarkable craft that was bearing them on thesurface of the flood. Perhaps they may have already jumped to theconclusion that the whole town of Carson had been inundated and sweptaway, and that these five lads might be the sole remaining survivors.That thought would in part account for their white faces; though ofcourse their own perilous situation was enough to give them pale cheeks.
Max was on the alert. Just as the timbers came alongside the loweredge of the roof he shot out that one energetic word:
"Now!"
Immediately every fellow was in motion, and as they had selected theirlanding places beforehand, they fortunately did not interfere with eachother's movements. Such a remarkable scrambling as followed; if youhave ever watched a cat that has made too risky a jump, barely get herclaws fastened on a limb, and then strain to clamber up, you canimagine something of the efforts of Toby and Bandy-legs in particular,as they did not seem to be quite as fortunate as the others.
But none of them dropped back into the river, and that was worthnoticing. The girls continued to utter various exclamations of alarmand excitement as they watched their supposed-to-be rescuers trying tojoin them on the roof. Bessie even clapped her hands when Bandy-legsafter a series of contortions that would have done credit to aprofessional athlete, managed to crawl over the edge, assisted by ahand given him, not from Max, nor yet Steve, but the despised ShackBeggs, who seemed to have had no difficulty whatever in making thelanding, for he was a muscular fellow, and as wiry as a cat.
So they climbed up the slope of the submerged farm house, and joinedthose who were already perched along the ridgepole, like so many birdsawaiting the time for flight.
Bandy-legs watched the timbers bumping against the side of the houseuntil they parted company, and floated swiftly away in smallersections. He felt like waving a sad farewell after the strange craftthat had borne them all the way down the valley; never would he forgethow it looked, passing away in pieces, as though its mission had beencompleted after allowing them to reach the farm-house.
There had been three refugees of the flood on the roof before; nowtheir number had increased to eight. But whether the coming of theboys added anything to the hopefulness of the situation remained to beproved.
At least it seemed to have cheered up both girls considerably. Maziewelcomed the coming of Max when he climbed to a place beside her, witha look that was intended to be sunny, but bordered on the pitiful.Truth to tell the poor girl had just passed through the most terribleexperience of her young life, having had responsibility crowded uponher in the absence of older heads.
"Oh! I am _so_ glad you have come to help us, Max!" she told him,after they had shaken hands like good friends, which they always hadbeen.
Max tried to laugh at that; he thought there was altogether too muchgloom in the gathering, and it would be better for all hands todiscover some sort of rift in the clouds.
"A queer old way of coming to help you, I should say, Mazie," he toldher. "What you saw floating off after it carried us here was all thatis left of the Carson bridge, which was carried away by the flood anhour or so ago."
"Oh! were there many people on it when it fell?" asked Bessie French,her eyes filled with suspense; she had pretended not to pay anyattention to Steve, who had deliberately found a place beside her, andwas sitting there as though he had a perfect right, and that nothingdisagreeable had ever come up between them; but in spite of her seemingindifference she was watching him out of the tail of her eye all thesame, just as a girl will.
"I'm glad to say that we were the only ones who went down with thebridge," Max hastened to tell her, knowing that she had loved ones inCarson, about whose safety she must naturally feel anxious.
"And all of you managed to cling to the timbers of the bridge?"questioned Mazie, looking with open admiration, first at Max, and thenthose with him, until a puzzled frown came on her pretty face, for shehad finally noticed Shack Beggs, and could not understand how a boy ofhis bad reputati
on chanced to be in the company of Max and his chums.
"Yes, it wasn't so hard, after we got settled in the water," Maxexplained. "We had the railing to help us out. And a little later wemanaged to help Shack in out of the wet, for he was on the bridge atthe same time, being thrown into the water when it collapsed."
"What a strange thing that you should be carried right down to where wewere in such dreadful need of help; and on such a remarkable boat,too," Mazie went on to say, with a tinge of color in her cheeks now,which spoke volumes for the confidence she felt in the ability of thisparticular boy to discover some means for bringing about their eventualrescue.
"Well, it does seem so," Max replied; "and the funny thing about it wasthat Steve here, just a short time before the bridge fell, was sayinghe would give anything he had in the wide world for the loan of amotorboat, so he could run down here and see if you girls needed help."
That was cleverly meant for Bessie's ears; trust Max to put in a goodword for his chum, because he knew how matters stood, and that Bessiewas treating poor Steve rather shabbily. The girl flushed, and thenslowly turning her face until her eyes, now dim with unshed tears, metthe eager ones of the boy at her side, she leaned her head forward andsaid in a low voice:
"I'm going to ask you to forget all that's happened between us, Steve;and let's start over being friends. I'll never laugh at you again whenyou're honestly trying to do something for me. I was a little foolthat time; but it'll never happen again, Steve. You'll forgive me,won't you?"
Of course, when Steve felt that little hand in his, he laughedgood-naturedly, and was heard to say in return:
"Never bother myself thinking about it again, Bessie; give you my wordon it. When I got home that time, and saw myself in a glass, I made upmy mind that I looked like a scarecrow, and that any girl would beashamed to have such a tramp stop her horse, whether he was runningaway or not. And we're all mighty glad we were on the old bridge whenshe took that drop, because it's been kind enough to carry us to yougirls down here."
All this may have been very interesting, but Max knew they had nobusiness to be wasting time in talking when confronted by a renewal ofperils. The farm-house had stood out against the pressure of the floodin a way that was wonderful; but it must have a limit to its endurance,which he did not doubt had been nearly reached.
What would happen to them if it should suddenly collapse was not apleasant subject for thought; and yet there could be no dodging theresponsibility.
At the same time he was curious to know how it happened that the twogirls and the little crippled cousin of Bessie came to be there alone;when it might have been expected that Asa French, or his farm hand,would be along, capable of rendering more or less assistance.
"How do you come to be here alone, you girls?" he hastened to ask ofMazie.
"It was just through a succession of accidents," the girl replied."You see, Mr. French and his wife received a message from Aldersonyesterday calling them over in great haste to visit an old aunt who wassinking, and from whom they expected to inherit quite a large sum ofmoney. They disliked leaving us here, but we insisted on it; andbesides the faithful old man who had been with them for just ages,Peter Rankin, promised to guard us well. They were to come back thismorning, but I suppose the floods kept them from setting out, as theroads must all be under water between here and Alderson."
"And you've had a night of terror, with the water creeping up all thewhile," observed Max; "but what became of Peter Rankin; I hope hewasn't drowned?"
"We don't know," replied Mazie, with a tremor in her voice. "Threehours ago he left us, saying that the only hope was for him to try andswim to the shore, so as to get a boat of some kind, and come to ourrescue before the house was carried away. We saw the brave old mandisappear far down the river, and we've been hoping and praying eversince that at least he managed to get ashore. Then we discovered allthat timber coming around the bend above, with people aboard, and noneof us could even guess what it meant."
"Well," said Max, "we're here, all right, and the next thing to do isto find some way of getting to the bank below."
"Then you're afraid the house will go before long?" Mazie asked him;"and that's what I've been thinking would happen every time that queertremble seemed to pass through it. We shrieked right out the firsttime, but I suppose we've become partly used to it by now. But, Max,what can we do?"
"I suppose there's nothing inside that could be used in place of aboat?" he asked, thoughtfully.
"Nothing but the furniture that is floating around the rooms; thoughsome of that has been washed out, and disappeared," Mazie told him.
"Then we'll have to look around and see what can be done to make araft. There are five of us boys, all stout enough to do our share ofthe work. We might manage to get some doors off their hinges, andfasten them together some way or other, if Bessie could only tell uswhere a clothes line was to be found."
Max tried to speak quietly, as though there was no need of beingalarmed; but after experiencing one of those tremors Mazie mentioned,he realized that the foundations of the farm-house were being rapidlyundermined by the action of the swift running water, so that it was indanger of being carried away at any minute.
No one could say just what would happen when this catastrophe came topass; the house might simply float down-stream, partly submerged; or itwas liable to "turn turtle," and become a mere wreck, falling to piecesunder the attacks of the waters.
And if they were still clinging to that sloping roof when this occurredthey would find themselves cast into the flood, half a mile away fromshore, and at the mercy of the elements.
Yes, there was sore need of doing something, by means of which theymight better their condition; and Max Hastings was not the one to wasteprecious minutes dallying when action was the only thing that couldsave them.
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