CHAPTER IX
The Flood
Twenty-four hours of a hard, continuous downpour, accompanied by a warm south wind, worked a mighty difference in the aspect of things at Roaring Water Portage. By night on the day following the arrival of the mail from Maxokama, the water was coming down the rapids with a roar, bringing great lumps of ice with it, which crashed to fragments on the rocks, or were washed down with the current to be a menace to the shipping anchored in the river below. All day long, heedless of the pouring rain, the men had worked at getting the boats free from their winter coating of ice and snow. So when night came, everyone was too thoroughly wet and tired to think of night school, which gave Katherine a welcome holiday from teaching.
She spent the time in sewing, and in making herself so generally entertaining that even her father was more than once beguiled into laughter. He was better and more hopeful than for a long time past. He was even led into thinking and talking of the future, and the work which would have to be done directly the fast-melting snow made it possible to get about once more. Before daylight faded he had helped Miles to get the big boat out, and carefully inspected the seams to make sure that no caulking was required. They used birchbark canoes a great deal at Roaring Water Portage in the summer-time, but there was too much ice about for birchbarks to be safe yet.
"We will knock up a little shed for the boat above the portage this summer, then when next winter comes we can lay her up there, instead of having to bring her down here," he said to Miles, as the two discussed the probability of being able to get the boat up the portage within a week.
"Oh, don't talk of next winter, Father; we have not got rid of this one yet!" exclaimed Mrs. Burton, who was entirely happy and contented to-night, because of the omission of night school.
"It is going very fast anyhow, and I guess we shall see bare ground in places to-morrow," Miles put in, talking in a sleepy tone; for he too had been breaking out ice that day, and was desperately tired.
"Yes, it is going, and I'm glad of it, for it has been the hardest winter to live through that I can remember, and I'm thankful to see the last of it," 'Duke Radford answered; and something in his look and tone made Katherine ask quickly:
"Don't you feel well to-night, Father?"
"Yes, I feel better than I have done for many a week past," he replied promptly; adding, in a tone too low for any but her to hear, "and happier too."
"I believe you will feel better now, and get strong quickly," said Mrs. Burton hopefully. "The winter had thoroughly gripped your system, and that was why you could not get better before."
All night long the roar of the water seemed to grow louder and louder, while the ice crashed, and the wild wind howled through the leafless trees. But the morning broke fine, and the sun came out to warm up a wet world. Such a very wet world it was, with the river swollen to twice its ordinary width! But as Miles had predicted, there was bare ground visible, and to eyes which had looked on snow-covered earth for six long months the sight was welcome indeed.
When breakfast was over, Katherine and Miles ran the boat down to the water's edge, and floated it, getting in and paddling up and down to see that there was no leakage, and to enjoy the novel sensation after the long abstention from boating. But there was work to be done, and they could not afford to spend even a part of the day in rowing for their own amusement. Stores had to be taken down to Seal Cove, and there was some bargaining to be done for some tusks of narwhal ivory which 'Duke Radford had been commissioned to obtain if possible. Narwhal ivory was getting scarcer every year, and the storekeeper at Roaring Water Portage was prepared to pay a very good price indeed for all that he could obtain.
The journey down to Seal Cove was performed with ease and swiftness, the only trouble necessary being the steering, which called for the utmost care in that racing current.
"It will be stiff work coming back," commented Miles, thinking how hard they would have to pull to make any sort of headway.
"Yes, I think we had better come home round by the off-creek; the water won't run so fast down there," replied Katherine: and Miles, being of the same opinion, assented with a nod.
At Seal Cove a curious state of things existed. The barrier of ice at the mouth of the river had not yet given way, and the racing current, penned in by the barrier, was mounting higher and higher, and threatened to flood the whole neighbourhood.
Katherine and Miles delivered as many of their stores as they could. But it was not possible to go bargaining for narwhal ivory, as the flood made their destination inaccessible, so they turned back instead, and started to row up a little backwater called the off-creek, which in summer was too tiny to admit of the passage of even a small boat, but was swollen now to the size of a river. This waterway led straight past the unwholesome habitation of Oily Dave, which faced the main river, while the creek ran at the back door, or where the back door would have been had the tumbledown house possessed one. The water was all round the house now, and must have been creeping in under the edge of the door, only from the back of the house they could not see this.
The two rested on their oars watching the scene, wondering whether the house would be swept away, and where Oily Dave would build himself a new residence, when they heard shouts, and from the distant bank of the river saw a woman standing waving her arms in a frantic manner.
"It is Mrs. Jenkin. But what can she want, for certainly her house won't be in any danger yet awhile?" said Miles, looking across the wide waste of waters to where a little brown hut was pitched high up on the bank.
"Hush! What is she saying?" cried Katherine, and put her hand to her ear to show that she was listening.
Mrs. Jenkin saw the motion, and lifted her voice afresh. "There is a man—danger—house—Oily Dave!"
That was all they could hear, for the wind carried the words away, and a great block of ice crashed against the front of Oily Dave's abode, making the wooden hut shiver with the force of the blow.
"Oily Dave is shut up in his house, and Mrs. Jenkin wants us to save him," said Katherine, waving her arms to show the woman on the bank that she heard and understood.
"The old baggage isn't worth saving, but I suppose we shall have to try what we can do," Miles answered, then shouted to Katherine to look out.
The warning came only just in time, for at that moment the huge block of ice which had struck the house before came swirling round in their direction, and they had to dodge it as best they could.
"We must get round to the front, if we can," said Katherine, when they had got the boat safely away from the danger of collision with the ice.
"Not possible; look there!" shouted Miles excitedly, as a great sheet of ice came gaily floating on the swift current, caught against the corner of the house, and stuck there, banging, grinding, and jarring with the movements of the swirling water, and threatening to beat the house down like a battering ram. At the same moment they heard a cry for help from inside the house, and the woman on the far bank shouted and gesticulated more wildly than before, while the whole structure groaned and shivered like a creature in pain.
Katherine turned pale, but seized the oars resolutely. "There is only one thing to do, Miles, and I am going to do it. Can you hold the boat at the edge of the ice for five or ten minutes?"
"You are not going to get on to the ice?" he protested, his voice sharp with dismay, as he looked at the bowing, bobbing fragment many square yards in extent, which was grinding against the side of the house, but which might split into fragments at any moment.
"Yes, I am. Then I shall creep round to the front, so that Oily Dave can see me, and then, perhaps, his courage will be equal to coming outside," she said, standing up and throwing off her thick coat, for it would not do to be encumbered with much clothing when any moment might plunge her into the water.
"Katherine, don't go. It is an awful risk, and the old man isn't worth it!" pleaded Miles, and, despite the fact of his being a boy, there were actual tears in his eyes as he urged her not to go.
But she would not listen, calling out sharply: "Bump her against the ice and then I'll spring."
Putting out his strength, Miles brought the boat with a bang against the floating ice island, and at the same moment Katherine sprang lightly from the boat. But, despite her care, she landed on all-fours, and, as the ice was awash, got rather wet in the process. Rising to an erect position after a few preliminary staggers, she walked cautiously out towards the middle of the ice island, which would bring her within sight of the prisoner in the hut, and would, she hoped, inspire him with sufficient courage to help him in the task of getting him into the boat.
By this time the woman on the bank understood what she was doing, and ceased shouting. It was Katherine's turn to make a noise now, and she did it with all her might. "Oily Dave, come out! We've got a boat at the back, and we will save you if you will be quick."
She was making so much noise herself, and picking her way with such extreme care over the rotten ice, that she failed to hear the first response to her calling, and the next pulled her up with a jerk.
"Oily Dave isn't here, but if you will take me I shall be very thankful."
The voice was a strange one, and had an unmistakable ring of refinement and culture. Katherine faced round with such a start of surprise as to nearly send her sprawling again, for the ice was full of pitfalls. A young man was leaning out through the small square opening which did duty for a window, and her first impression of him was of someone extremely tired, and that gave her the clue to his identity. He must be the Englishman who had come from Maxokama with the Indians who had brought the mail.
"Open the door and come out that way," she said in a tone of sharp authority. "You will never be able to squeeze through that small window unless your shoulders are very narrow indeed."
"Which they are not," he replied, and disappeared from view.
She heard him banging and tugging at the door, but never a jot did it stir, and after about five minutes of this futile work he appeared again at the window. The water was nearly on a level with the opening now, and rising moment by moment, while there were ominous ripping and rending sounds in Katherine's ice island, which warned her that the rescue must take place in the next few minutes if it was to be effected at all.
"The door is jammed. What am I to do?" the unknown asked in a calm tone, with no flurry or fuss. Indeed, Katherine wondered if he realized how great was his peril and her own.
"Break it down, smash it, anything; only be quick, please," she said sharply, marvelling a little at his unconcern in the face of such grave danger.
Again he disappeared, and Katherine heard a rain of heavy blows beginning to fall upon the door; then with a cracking, splitting noise the panel gave way, the man inside wrenched off the broken part, and stood revealed up to his waist in water. But there was a space of fully three yards between himself and Katherine's island of ice, and, as the ground dropped away sharply in front of the house, she knew he must not venture to attempt wading.
"Get a plank or Oily Dave's long table," she said, her manner more dictatorial than before, for the unknown was so terribly slow in his movements, and the water was still rising.
Mrs. Jenkin had commenced shouting again, but Katherine paid no heed to her, for the unknown had appeared with a long, narrow trestle table, which, resting one set of legs on the doorstep, reached to the ice. But it was a perilous bridge, and Katherine knew it; only there was no other way, so the peril had to be faced.
"Now run, only be ready to spring," she cried, trying to encourage him.
"Easier said than done," he answered. "I can scarcely walk, much less run."
"Then you must crawl; only please make haste. The ice is so rotten that every minute I am fearing it will give way," she said. Then dropping on her knees on the ice, regardless of the water which washed over its surface, she tried to hold the edge of the table steady for him to cross.
On he came, crawling slowly and painfully. He was so near to her now that Katherine could hear his panting breath and see the look of grim endurance on his drawn face. Mrs. Jenkin was shrieking in a frantic manner, and then Katherine heard a shrill cry from Miles, who was out of sight round the corner of the house. But the noise conveyed no meaning to her. She had just stretched out her hand to grasp that of the unknown, when there came a tremendous crash which shot her off the ice and into the water. The shock which sent her into the water, however, steadied the rickety bridge over which the stranger was crawling by jamming the ice closer under it, and the man, catching her as she took her plunge, held her fast, then dragged her up beside him by sheer strength of arm.
[Illustration: The rescue of Jarvis Ferrars.]
"I am afraid you are rather wet," the stranger said in a tone of rueful apology, keeping his clutch on Katherine as she struggled to a kneeling posture.
Dashing the wet hair from her eyes, Katherine looked anxiously round, fearing that their one way of escape had been cut off. A huge fragment of ice had cannoned into her island and split off a great portion. Plainly that was why Mrs. Jenkin had screamed so shrilly, for she had seen what was coming and had tried to warn her. There were other ice fragments about; huge blocks like miniature bergs were bobbing and bowing to the racing current, while they flashed back the rays of the sun with dazzling brilliancy. But there was still time to get round the corner of the house to the boat, if only they made haste; and, scrambling from her knees to her feet, Katherine cried urgently: "Come, come, we have just time; there is a boat round the corner of the house. If we can get there before the next crash comes we are safe, if not we may drown!"
"Save yourself. It is no use, I can't hurry; every step is torture," the unknown said, with a groan, as she fairly dragged him on to his feet, which were swathed in towels.
But she would not leave him. "Lean on me as heavily as you please. I am tremendously strong, and I would try carrying you if you were not so big," she said, with bustling cheerfulness, as, slipping her arm round him, she hurried him forward.
What a walk it was over that cracking, splitting ice! Mrs. Jenkin had begun screaming again; and although Katherine was wet through with ice-cold water, she could feel the perspiration start as she faced their chances of escape. An oncoming fragment at that moment fouled with a similar piece swirling round from another direction, and the moment thus gained proved their salvation. With quiet obstinacy the stranger made Katherine enter the boat first; then, as he stumbled in himself, the two fragments dashed into the island, which smashed into a thousand pieces.