OUT IN THE STORM
“This is getting to be something fierce!”
It was Dave who uttered the words, about five o’clock in the afternoon. He was looking out of the door of the cabin, and beside him stood Jerry Blutt.
The storm had kept up without intermission, the rain coming down in a perfect torrent, and the wind blowing in fitful gusts from the east. It was raw and depressing, and our hero could not help but shiver as he looked out on the turbulent waters of the river.
“It’s a pity them fellers ain’t got back,” said the camp-worker, with a slow shake of his head. “It ain’t nice to be out in sech a downpour as this, an’ with sech a wind! Might a tree blow down on ’em!” And he shook his head again.
Dave was even more distressed than the man. He could not get that dam out of his mind. Such a heavy fall of rain would certainly cause a great flow of water, and if the structure was weak, most anything bad was liable to happen. 231
“As soon as the boys get back I’ll urge them to leave here,” he told himself. “If that dam breaks we want to be on high ground, where the flood can’t reach us.”
“’Pears to me like the river was gittin’ putty high,” remarked Jerry Blutt, a little later, as he watched the water in the cove closely.
“Well, it would rise some with all this rain coming down,” returned Dave.
“So it might,—but I don’t know. I wish this camp was on the shore, instid o’ this island.”
“So do I,” answered Dave, bluntly.
A fire had been started in the stove and a lantern lit, and Jerry Blutt rather reluctantly began preparations for the evening meal. But he kept peering out of the doorway of the cabin, and from the lean-to, and his eyes always rested on the river, with its rain-swept, swollen surface.
“I don’t like it at all!” he said, finally. “I wish we had moved over to the shore.”
“Don’t you think it is safe to stay here?”
“It ain’t as safe as it might be. If I was alone––” The man stopped short.
“What would you do?”
“I hate to say it, but I think I’d go over to the shore, till the storm was over and I knew jest how thet dam was a-goin’ to act.”
“Well, I don’t blame you,” answered Dave. “And if you want to go, go ahead.” 232
“Want me to go alone?”
“If you wish to go, yes.”
“But it ain’t no safer fer you than it is fer me.”
“That’s so, too. But I want to see those other fellows—in fact, I must see them. If I went to the shore I might miss them.”
“You could come back later on.”
“But I want to warn them of the danger from the dam.”
“You could write a letter and stick it up where they couldn’t help but see it. Then–– What’s that?”
The camp-worker stopped short, as a distant cry reached their ears, sounding out above the wind. An instant later the cry was repeated.
“That is Ben Basswood’s voice!” cried Dave. “They must be coming back!”
Soon another voice sounded out, and our hero recognized Buster Beggs’s tones. He ran to the cabin door. All was dark outside, and the rain was being driven in sheets by the wind.
“Hello! hello!” he yelled, and catching up the lantern, he swung it out in one direction and another. Then he saw two forms approaching on the run, each dripping with water.
“Ben! And Buster!”
“Why, if it isn’t Dave!”
“Where in the world did you come from?”
“Where is Phil?” demanded our hero. 233
“He is somewhere behind us,” answered Buster. “Oh, what a time we’ve had!” and entering the cabin, the fat youth sank down on a bench all but exhausted.
“We’ve had to tramp for over two miles in this rain,” explained Ben. “And of course we had to ford to the island. Say, the current is something fierce now! And the water is getting higher every minute!” he added.
“Did you say Phil was behind you?” demanded Dave. He still held the lantern on high.
“I thought he was—sure, he must be,” answered Ben. “Give him a hail, will you? I’m too tired,” and he sank on the bench beside Buster.
“Phil! Phil!” yelled our hero, at the top of his lungs. “This way! This way!” and he swung the lantern to the right and left.
“Did you say the river is rising?” demanded Jerry Blutt. “How high is it? Over the White Bar yet?”
“Yes, the Bar is a foot under water,” answered Ben. “Oh, this is a great storm!”
“A foot under water!” murmured the camp-worker. “Say, we better git out! First thing you know this hull island will be under! An’ if thet dam breaks––”
“Oh, the dam!” gasped Buster. “I forgot about that! They say it isn’t safe at all! That is why all the other campers got out! Yes, we 234 must leave the island and go to the shore.” He turned to Dave. “Did you come alone?”
“Yes, Buster. I’ll tell you all about it later. But now we must find Phil.”
“I thought he was right behind me,” came from Ben. He looked greatly distressed. “I wonder if anything happened to him? Maybe he slipped off the rocks into the river!”
“We must look for him!” cried Dave, and reached for his coat and cap. “Show me the way you came, Ben.”
Ben was nothing loath, and side by side the two chums ran outside into the storm, and in the direction of the upper end of the island. They had gone but a short distance when they reached a low spot and here suddenly found themselves in water several inches deep.
“Hello, you are taking me into the river!” cried Dave.
“This isn’t the river!” answered Ben, with a gasp. “Gosh! how the water is rising! This was dry when I came over it before!”
“Dry!” ejaculated our hero. “Ben, are you sure?”
“Positive! Say, the water is rising to beat the band! I guess we had better get out! If we don’t we’ll have to swim for it!”
“Phil! Phil! Where are you?”
Standing in water up to his ankles, our hero 235 called again and again, and Ben joined in the cry. The lantern was flashed in all directions. But nothing was seen or heard of the missing student.
“I am sure he started to follow us across the river,” said Ben. “Buster was in front, I came next, and Phil was in the rear. I asked him twice if he was all right and he said he was. Then it blew so hard, and the rain got so heavy, none of us said any more. Oh, Dave, what shall we do?”
“I don’t know Ben—wish I did.”
“Do you think he slipped off the rocks and was—was—drowned?”
“I hope not.”
“If he was, wouldn’t it be terrible?”
“Yes.”
A cry came from behind them, and Buster appeared, followed by Jerry Blutt.
“Where is Phil?” demanded the stout youth.
“We don’t know.”
“The water is terribly high, and Jerry thinks we had better move to the shore. He says we might be drowned if that dam should break.”
“Don’t you think we ought to find Phil first?”
“Sure—if we can. Maybe he went back, when he found out how the water was rising,” went on the stout youth, hopefully.
“I don’t think he’d desert us,” answered Ben. “That isn’t Phil’s style.” 236
“You’re right, Ben,” said Dave.
All splashed around in the water for several minutes, but without making any discovery of importance. The river was now rising more rapidly than ever, and the camp-worker showed increased nervousness.
“Ain’t no two ways about it—the dam’s bust!” he cried, at last. “I’m goin’ to git out, an’ I advise all o’ you to do the same. If you want me to carry anything to shore I’ll do it.”
“We can’t carry any trunks in such a hurry,” said Buster.
“Let us carry our suit-cases and bundles,” said Ben.
With heavy hearts, Dave and the others returned to the cabin. The water in the cove had now risen so high that it swept the edge of the lean-to.
“Can we get to shore?” asked Buster. “We haven’t any boat,” he added, turning to Dave.
“We can if you’ll hurry,” replied Jerry Blutt. “Every minit lost makes it jest so much more dangerous.”
In great haste Ben and Buster and the camp-worker gathered together such belongings as they could conveniently carry. The other things were placed in a trunk and hoisted by ropes into a big tree. Then a lantern was tied on a post in front of the cabin and to it was fastened a brief note, 237 for Phil’s benefit, stating they had gone to the shore.
“Oh, I hope he is safe!” murmured Dave, anxiously.
“So do I,” added his chums.
Jerry Blutt led the way along the shore of the island and then out into the stream. They had the second camp lantern with them, one belonging to Jerry. He led the way from rock to rock, and they followed in single file, Dave bringing up the rear. Ever and anon our hero looked back for some sign of Phil, but without avail.
Once out in the river, all were certain that the dam above Camptown Falls had burst. The water ran with great rapidity and was filled with dirt and débris of various kinds. On the rocks that were low they had all they could do to keep their footing.
The most dangerous part of the river had yet to be passed—a section close to the shore, where the water was deep and the rocks for fording few.
“Mind your footin’ here!” sang out the camp-worker. “An’ if you slip, look out thet you don’t hurt yourselves!”
He was splashing along in water up to his knees, sometimes on the rocks and then again on a sandbar running in that direction. Then he had to make a turn, to avoid a deep portion of the stream, where the current was rapid. 238
Ben was behind the man and Buster was just ahead of Dave. As all struggled along, there came an extra heavy blast of wind, followed by a perfect deluge of rain.
“Oh!” screamed Buster, an instant later, and peering through the rain, Dave saw him suddenly throw up his arms and slip from a rock. There was a splash, and poor Buster disappeared from view.
“Buster is in the river!” yelled our hero, and then he leaped for the rock from which the stout youth had fallen. He looked down and saw an arm and a head come up.
“Help! hel––” came from the unfortunate one, and then the swift current caught him and turned him over, out of sight.
“Help!” yelled Dave, to attract the attention of those ahead. And then, as he saw Ben turn back, he slipped down on the rock and into the swirling river and struck out after Buster.