“I do hope,” said Ess, “I suppose it’s an awful thing to say, Dolly, but I do hope it doesn’t commence to rain again.”
“Hush,” whispered Dolly, “don’t tell anyone—so do I.”
“But I hope it will rain lots more when we’re back to the Ridge,” she said loudly.
A moment later a sprinkle of rain fell. “Good Lord,” groaned Dolly, “you’ve done it now. It heard you, and it’s starting again so’s to be in good time.” He grabbed his shirt and put it on, and Ess hastily resumed her boots and stockings.
Dolly piled the wood heaping on the fire, in the hopes that the rain would not be heavy enough to drown it out, and they crept back under the buggy. But the rain came heavier and heavier, till soon it was pouring a deluge again, and beating on the buggy and hissing on the wet ground. The fire was drowned out in a minute, but Ess hugged an armful of dry sticks under her cloak, and Dolly assured her he would have it going again in no time when this shower went off. But the shower gave no signs of abating, and Ess sat watching the water spouting off the buggy and splashing down, and shivered at the thought of sitting there all through the long night. She had hardly a thought beyond the coming of daylight, and never considered the plight they would find themselves in, nor how they were to ever reach the Ridge. But Dolly gave plenty of thought to it, and was in no ways cheered at the outlook, although he laughed, and chattered rubbish, and joked, to keep the girl from guessing at his thoughts.
The animals were scuffling in under the buggy again, and Dolly could not beat them out faster than they came in.
Dolly knew that they were now on an island, and he knew too that the closer pressing of these beasts meant that the island was growing smaller. He got up at last to look, and before he had taken ten steps from the buggy he found the water lapping round his feet. Behind him and beyond the tree he could still see dark ground, and he made his way round the edge, kicking the rabbits from under his feet as he walked. He trudged back to the buggy. “The water’s almost upon us,” he said. “We’ll have to go and roost in the trees like the crows.”
Ess scrambled out with expressions of alarm, but he laughed, and joked, and made light of her fears, and together they went to inspect the tree. Ess clung to his arm and shrieked as they trod their way through and over the squirming masses of rabbits. The ground was packed and carpeted with them, and they found that the things had climbed on to the buggy and were clustered thick all over it.
“This will save some work for the poison carts and trappers,” said Dolly. “The boss spent £400 last year keeping the brutes down, but the water will save him that expense this year. Here’s the tree—now for a climb.” But the tree trunk stood up bare and smooth without projection or foothold, till it forked full twenty feet up. They ran back to the buggy, and found it already lapped about by the rising water. They hauled it to the foot of the tree, and Dolly tried to climb from it, but had to slip back in despair.
He sat down heavily on the seat, and Ess climbed beside him.