“I am afraid to say what I think,” replied my father. “We are in a vast continent whose rivers are enormous. You see the water is still rising.”
“Oh yes, sir, it’s still rising,” grumbled Morgan; “but I wish it would keep still. Going to stop or go, sir? If we go it had better be at once.”
“We will stay,” said my father; and as terrible a vigil as ever poor creatures kept commenced.
Fortunately for us the night was glorious, and as the last gleam of daylight passed away, the great stars came out rapidly, till the darkened heavens were one blaze of splendour, while the scene was made more grand by the glittering being reflected from the calm surface of the waters all around, till we seemed to be sitting there in the midst of a sea of gold, with blackened figures standing up dotted here and there, and beyond them the dark line of the forest.
The silence for a time was awful, for the current now ran very slowly, and the rise of the water was so insidious that it could hardly be perceived.
From time to time my father tried to raise our spirits by speaking hopefully and prayerfully of our position, but it was hard work to raise the spirits of poor creatures in so perilous a strait, and after a time he became silent, and we all sat wondering, and bending down to feel if the water was still rising.
Then all at once a curious thrill of horror ran through me, for the hideous bellow of an alligator was heard, and Morgan’s hand went involuntarily to his pocket.
“Got knives, everybody?” he said. “Don’t want them cowardly beasts to tackle us now.”
“It is hardly likely,” said my father, but at that moment as he spoke Pomp touched my arm.
“Dah ’gator!” he said, pointing.