They grouped themselves with us close up to the breastwork, where we stood with the water rising still higher, and then all at once I felt that we must swim, for a fresh wave, the result probably of some portion of the flood that had been dammed up higher on the river course, swept upon us right to our lips, and but for the strength of our stone breastwork we must have been borne away.
As it was, we were standing by it, some on either side, and all clinging together. We withstood the heavy wrench that the water seemed to give, and held on, the only one who lost his footing being Jack Penny, who was dragged back by the doctor as the wave passed on.
“Enough to pull your arms out of the socket,” whined Jack dolefully. “I say, please don’t do it again. I’d rather have to swim.”
Higher and higher came the water, icily cold and numbing. The wave that passed was succeeded by another, but that only reached to our waists, and when this had gone by there was the old slow rising of the flood as before till it was as high as our knees. Then by degrees it crept on and on till I was standing with it reaching my hips.
A fearful silence now ensued, and the thought came upon me that when the final struggle was at hand we should be so clasped together that swimming would be impossible and we must all be drowned.
And now, once more, with the water rising steadily, the old stunned helpless feeling began to creep over me, and I began to think of home in a dull heavy manner, of the happy days when I had hardly a care, and perhaps a few regrets were mixed with it all; but somehow I did not feel as if I repented of coming, save when I thought that my mother would have two sorrows now when she came to know of her loss.
Then everything seemed to be numbed; my limbs began to feel helpless, and my thoughts moved sluggishly, and in a half dreamy fashion I stood there pressed against, the rock holding tightly by the doctor on one side, by Jimmy on the other, and in another minute I knew that the rising water would be at my lips.
I remember giving a curious gasp as if my breath was going, and in imagination I recalled my sensations when, during a bathing expedition, I went down twice before Jimmy swam to my help and held me up. The water had not touched my lips—it was only at my chest, but I fancied I felt it bubbling in my nostrils and strangling me; I seemed to hear it thundering in my ears; there was the old pain at the back of my neck, and I struggled to get my hands free to beat the water like a drowning dog, but they were tightly held by my companions, how tightly probably they never knew. Then I remember that my head suddenly seemed to grow clear, and I was repeating to myself the words of a familiar old prayer when my eyes fell upon the surface of the water, and I felt as if I could not breathe.
The next minute Gyp was barking furiously, as he stood upon his hind legs resting his paws upon his master’s shoulders, and Jimmy gave a loud shout.
“All a water run away, juss fass now,” and as he spoke it fell a couple of inches, then a couple more, so swiftly, indeed, that the terrible pressure that held us tightly against the stones was taken off pound by pound, and before we could realise the truth the water was at my knees.