The boys told Uncle Daniel how the tank in the barn had overflowed, and he said they had done good work to prevent any damage.
“Oh, Uncle Daniel!” exclaimed Freddie, just then running up from the cellar. “Come and see my ark! It’s most done, and I’m going to put all the animals and things in it to save them from the flood.”
“An ark!” exclaimed his uncle, laughing. “Well, you’re a sensible little fellow to build an ark today, Freddie, for we will surely need one if this keeps up,” and away they went to examine the raft Freddie had actually nailed together in the cellar.
That was an awful night in Meadow Brook, and few people went to bed, staying up instead to watch the danger of the flood. The men took turns walking along the pond bank all night long, and their low call each hour seemed to strike terror in the hearts of those who were in danger.
The men carried lanterns, and the little specks of light were all that could be seen through the darkness.
Mrs. Burns had refused to leave her home.
“I will stay as long as I can,” she told Uncle Daniel. “I have lived here many a year, and that dam has not broken yet, so I’m not going to give up hope now!”
“But you could hardly get out in time should it break,” insisted Uncle Daniel, “and you know we have plenty of room and you are welcome with us.”
Still she insisted on staying, and each hour when the watchman would call from the pond bank, just like they used to do in old war-times: “Two o’clock-and—all is—well!” Mrs. Burns would look up and say, “Dear Lord, I thank Thee!”
Peter, of course, was out with the men. He could not move his barns and chicken house, but he had taken his cow and horse to places of safety.
There were other families along the road in danger as well as the Burnses, but they were not so near the dam, and would get some warning to escape before the flood could reach them should the dam burst.
How the water roared! And how awfully dark it was! Would morning ever come?
“Four o’clock—the water rises!” shouted the men from the bank.
“Here, Mary!” called Peter Burns at the door of their little home, “you put your shawl on and run up the road as fast as you can! Don’t wait to take anything, but go!”
“Oh, my babies’ pictures!” she cried. “My dear babies! I must have them.”
The poor frightened little woman rushed about the house looking for the much-prized pictures of her babies that were in heaven.
“It’s a good thing they all have a safe home tonight,” she thought, “for their mother could not give them safety if they were here.”
“Come, Mary!” called Peter, outside. “That dam is swaying like a tree-top, and it will go over any minute.” With one last look at the little home Mrs. Burns went out and closed the door.
Outside there were people from all along the road. Some driven out of their homes in alarm, others having turned out to help their neighbors.
The watchmen had left the bank. A torrent from the dam would surely wash that away, and brave as the men were they could not watch the flood any longer.
“Get past the willows quick!” called the men. “Let everybody who is not needed hurry up the road!”
Mr. Mason, Mr. Hopkins, Uncle Daniel, and John, besides Peter Burns, were the men most active in the life-saving work. There were not many boats to be had, but what there were had been brought inland early in the day, for otherwise they would have been washed away long before down the stream into the river.
“What’s that?” called Uncle Daniel, as there was a heavy crash over near the gates.
Then everybody listened breathless.
It was just coming daylight, and the first streak of dawn saw the end of the awful rain.
Not one man in the crowd dared to run up that pond bank and look over the gates!
“It’s pretty strong!” said the watchman. “I expected to hear it crash an hour ago!”
There was another crash!
“There she goes!” said Mr. Burns, and then nobody spoke.
CHAPTER XVII
A Town Afloat
“Is she going?” asked Uncle Daniel at last, after a wait of several minutes.
Daylight was there now; and was ever dawn more welcome in Meadow Brook!
“I’ll go up to the pipes,” volunteered John. “And I can see from there.”
Now, the pipes were great water conduits, the immense black iron kind that are used for carrying water into cities from reservoirs. They were situated quite a way from the dam, but as it was daylight John could see the gates as he stood on the pipes that crossed above the pond.
Usually boys could walk across these pipes in safety, as they were far above the water, but the flood had raised the stream so that the water just reached the pipes, and John had to be careful.
“What’s that?” he said, as he looked down the raging stream.
“Something lies across the dam!” he shouted to the anxious listeners.
This was enough. In another minute every man was on the pond bank.
“The big elm!” they shouted. “It has saved the dam!”
What a wonderful thing had happened! The giant elm tree that for so many, many years had stood on the edge of the stream, was in this great flood washed away, and as it crossed the dam it broke the force of the torrent, really making another waterfall.
“It is safe now!” exclaimed Uncle Daniel in surprise. “It was the tree we heard crash against the bank. The storm is broken at last, and that tree will hold where it is stuck until the force goes down. Then we can open the gates.”
To think that the houses were safe again! That poor Mrs. Burns could come back to the old mill home once more!
“We must never have this risk again,” said Mr. Mason to Uncle Daniel. “When the water goes down we will open the gates, then the next dry spell that comes when there is little water in the pond we will break that dam and let the water run through in a stream. If the mill people want water power they will have to get it some place where it will not endanger lives.”
Uncle Daniel agreed with Mr. Mason, and as they were both town officials, it was quite likely what they said would be done in Meadow Brook.
“Hey, Bert and Harry!” called Tom Mason, as he and Jack Hopkins ran past the Bobbsey place on their way to see the dam. “Come on down and see the flood.”
The boys did not wait for breakfast, but with a buttered roll in hand Harry and Bert joined the others and hurried off to the flood.
“Did the dam burst?” was the first question everybody asked along the way, and when told how the elm tree had saved it the people were greatly astonished.
“Look at this,” called Tom, as they came to a turn in the road where the pond ran level with the fields. That was where it was only stream, and no embankment had been built around it.
“Look!” exclaimed Jack; “the water has come up clear across the road, and we can only pass by walking on the high board fence.”
“Or get a boat,” said Tom. “Let’s go back to the turn and see if there’s a boat tied anywhere.”
“Here’s Herolds’,” called Harry, as they found the pretty little rowboat, used for pleasure by the summer cottagers, tied up to a tree.
“We’ll just borrow that,” said Jack, and then the four boys lifted the boat to that part of the road where the water ran.
“All get in, and I’ll push off,” said Harry, who had hip-boots on. The other three climbed in, then Harry gave a good push and scrambled over the edge himself.
“Think of rowing a boat in the middle of a street,” said Bert. “That’s the way they do in Naples,” he added, “but I never expected to see such a thing in Meadow Brook.”
The boys pushed along quite easily, as the water was deep enough to use oars in, and soon they had rounded the curve of the road and were in sight of the people looking at the dam.
“What an immense tree!” exclaimed Bert, as they left their boat and mounted the bank.
“That’s what saved the dam!” said Harry. “Now Mrs. Burns can come back home again.”
“But look there!” called Tom. “There goes Peter Burns’ chicken house.”
Sure enough, the henhouse had left its foundation and now toppled over into the stream.
It had been built below the falls, near the Burns house, and Peter had some valuable ducks and chickens in it.
“The chickens!” called Jack, as they ran along. “Get the boat, Harry, and we can save some.”
The boys were dashing out now right in the stream, Jack and Tom being good oarsmen.
But the poor chickens! What an awful noise they made, as they tried to keep on the dry side of the floating house!
The ducks, of course, didn’t mind it, but they added their strange quacking to the noise.
“We can never catch any of the chickens,” said Harry. “We ought to have a rope and pull the house in.”
“A rope,” called Tom to the crowd on the shore. “Throw us a rope!”
Someone ran off and got one, and it was quickly thrown out to the boys in the boat.
“Push up closer,” Tom told Harry and Bert, who had the oars now. Tom made a big loop on the rope and threw it toward the house. But it only landed over a chicken, and caused the frightened fowl to fly high up in the air and rest in a tree on the bank.
“Good!” cried the people on the edge. “One is safe, anyhow!”
Tom threw the rope again. This time it caught on a corner of the henhouse, and as he pulled the knot tight they had the floating house secure.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted the people.
By this time Mr. Mason and Uncle Daniel had reached the spot in their boat.
“Don’t pull too hard!” called the men to the boys. “You’ll upset your boat.”
“Throw the line to us,” added Uncle Daniel,
This the boys did, and as it was a long stretch of rope the men were able to get all the way in to shore with it before pulling at the house.
“Now we’ll have a tug of war,” said Mr. Mason.
“Wait for us!” cried the boys in the boat “We want to have a pull at that.”
All this time the chickens were cackling and screeching, as the house in the water lunged from one side to the other. It was a large new coop and built of strong material that made it very heavy.
“Now,” said Uncle Daniel, as the boys reached the shore and secured their boat, “all take a good hold.”
Every inch of the rope that crossed the water’s edge was soon covered with somebody’s hand.
“All pull now!” called Mr. Mason, and with a jerk in came the floating house, chickens, ducks and all, and down went everybody that had pulled. The force of the jerk, of course, threw them all to the ground, but that was only fun and gave the boys a good chance to laugh.
Just as soon as the chickens reached the shore they scampered for home—some flying, some running, but all making a noise.
“We may as well finish the job,” said Mr. Mason. “Tom, go hitch Sable up to the cart and we’ll bring the henhouse back where it belongs.”
By running across the fields that were on the highest part of the road Tom was able to get to his barn without a boat, and soon he returned with the cart and Sable.
It took all hands to get the henhouse on the cart, but this was finally done, and away went Sable up the road with the strange load after him in the dump cart.
“You had better put it up on the hill this time,” Peter told them. “The water isn’t gone down yet.” So at last the chicken coop was settled, and not a hen was missing.
There were many sights to be seen about Meadow Brook that afternoon, and the boys enjoyed the flood, now that there was no longer any danger to life.
Bert caught a big salmon and a black-spotted lizard that had been flooded out from some dark place in the mountains, Harry found a pretty toy canoe that some small boy had probably been playing with in the stream before the water rose, and Jack was kept busy towing in all kinds of stuff that had broken loose from barns along the pond.
Freddie had boots on, and was happy sailing his “ark” up and down the road. He insisted on Snoop taking a ride, but cats do not fancy water and the black kitten quickly hid himself up in the hay loft, out of Freddie’s reach.
Little by little the water fell, until by the next afternoon there was no longer a river running through the roads. But there were plenty of wet places and enough of streams washing down the rain the gutters to give Freddie a fine canal to sail boats in.
Nan and Flossie had boats too which Bert and Harry made for them. In fact, all the girls along Meadow Brook road found something that would sail while the flood days lasted.
As it was still July the hot sun came down and dried things up pretty quickly, but many haymows were completely spoiled, as were summer vegetables that were too near the pond and came in for their share of the washout.
This loss, however, was nothing compared with what had been expected by the farmers, and all were satisfied that a kind Providence had saved the valley houses from complete destruction.
CHAPTER XVIII
The Fresh-Air Camp
Quiet had settled down once more upon the little village of Meadow Brook. The excitement of the flood had died away, and now when the month of July was almost gone, and a good part of vacation had gone with it, the children turned their attention to a matter of new interest—the fresh-air camp.
“Mildred Manners was over to the camp yesterday,” Nan told her mother, “and she says a whole lot of little girls have come out from the city, and they have such poor clothes. There is no sickness there that anyone could catch, she says (for her uncle is the doctor, you know), but Mildred says her mother is going to show her how to make some aprons for the little girls.”
“Why, that would be nice for all you little girls to do,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Suppose you start a sewing school, and all see what you can make!”
“Oh, that would be lovely!” exclaimed Nan. “When can we start?”
“As soon as we get the materials,” the mother replied. “We will ask Aunt Sarah to drive over to the camp this afternoon; then we can see what the children need.”
“Can I go?” asked Flossie, much interested in the fresh-air work.
“I guess so,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “If we take the depot wagon there will be room for you and Freddie.”
So that was how it came about that our little friends became interested in the fresh-air camp. Nan and Mildred, Flossie and Freddie, with Aunt Sarah and Mrs. Bobbsey, visited the camp in the afternoon.
“What an odd place it is!” whispered Flossie, as they drove up to the tents on the mountain-side.
“Hush,” said Nan; “they might hear you.”
“Oh, these are war-camps!” exclaimed Freddie when he saw the white tents. “They’re just like the war-pictures in my story book!”
The matron who had charge of the camp came up, and when Mrs. Bobbsey explained her business, the matron was pleased and glad to show them through the place.
“Oh, it was your boys who brought us all that money from the circus?” said the woman. “That’s why we have all the extra children here—the circus money has paid for them, and they are to have two weeks on this beautiful mountain.”
“I’m glad the boys were able to help,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “It really was quite a circus.”
“It must have been, when they made so much money,” the other answered.
“And we are going to help now,” spoke up Nan. “We are starting a sewing school.”
“Oh, I’m so glad somebody has thought of clothes,” said the matron. “We often get gifts of food, but we need clothes so badly.”
“There is no sickness?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as they started on a tour of the camp.
“No; we cannot take sick children here now,” said the matron. “We had some early in the season, but this is such a fine place for romping we decided to keep this camp for the healthy children a
nd have another for those who are sick.”
By this time numbers of little girls and boys crowded around the visitors. They were quite different from the children of Meadow Brook or Lakeport. Somehow they were smaller, but looked older. Poor children begin to worry so young that they soon look much older than they really are.
Nan and Mildred spoke kindly to the girls, while Freddie and Flossie soon made friends with the little boys. One small boy, smaller than Freddie, with sandy hair and beautiful blue eyes, was particularly happy with Freddie. He looked better than the others, was almost as fat as Freddie, and he had such lovely clear skin, as if somebody loved to wash it.
“Where do you lib?” he lisped to Freddie.
“At Uncle Daniel’s,” Freddie answered. “Where do you live?”
“With mamma,” replied the little boy. Then he stopped a minute. “Oh, no; I don’t live with mamma now,” he corrected himself, “’cause she’s gone to heaven, so I live with Mrs. Manily.”
Mrs. Manily was the matron, and numbers of the children called her mamma.
“Can I come over and play with you?” asked the boy. “What’s your name?”
“His name is Freddie and mine is Flossie,” said the latter. “What is your name?”
“Mine is Edward Brooks,” said the little stranger, “but everybody calls me Sandy. Do you like Sandy better than Edward?”
“No,” replied Flossie. “But I suppose that’s a pet name because your hair is that color.”
“Is it?” said the boy, tossing his sunny curls around. “Maybe that’s why!”
“Guess it is,” said Freddie. “But will Mrs. Man let you come over to our house?”
“Mrs. Manily, you mean,” said Sandy. “I’ll just go and ask her.”
“Isn’t he cute!” exclaimed Flossie, and the pretty little boy ran in search of Mrs. Manily.
“I’m going to ask mamma if we can bring him home,” declared Freddie. “He could sleep in my bed.”
The others of the party were now walking through the big tents.
“This is where we eat,” the matron explained, as the dining room was entered. The tent was filled with long narrow tables and had benches at the sides. The tables were covered with oilcloth, and in the center of each was a beautiful bunch of fresh wild flowers—the small pretty kind that grow in the woods.
The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 20