"Before this time," said Ulna, speaking with the calmness that distinguished all he said, "the valley is flooded and the horses up there are drowned."
Sam shuddered but made no reply.
He went back to the cave, secured a lighted brand, and, returning to the edge of the plateau, he dropped it over.
It went hissing down. If the current were as low as the day before it should have fallen sheer down for a hundred feet, but before going half that distance, it lit up an expanse of water white with foam, and was extinguished.
The result of this experiment brought Sam's heart to his mouth, and he could not have uttered a word if the life of the father he so well loved depended on it.
"If she keeps on a-climbin' up dat way," groaned Ike, "de watah'll be nigh into de cave by mawnin'."
Sam now recalled that he had found drift-wood lodged in the crevices of the rocks, even higher than the entrances to the cave, and from this he inferred that at the highest water no one could stay in the cave and live.
Maj, the fine setter dog, had been moaning beside the fire all the evening, but now he came out and crouched at his young master's feet, as if his instinct told him of the danger and that he wanted protection.
Fearing that the poor horses were gone, and well knowing that it would be madness to attempt to cross the cañon that night, Sam turned sadly to his companions and said:
"We can do nothing till daylight comes. Let us get in out of the storm."