“Yes,” said my father, smiling at Pomp, after we had relieved the terrible cravings of hunger from which we had suffered; “it is a mess. But look, George, the water is still sinking fast.”
That was plain enough to see now, and as it went lower and lower, the damage done, though of course great, was not what might have been expected. We had been saved from utter destruction by the fact that only a moderate-sized clearing had been made in the virgin forest, whose mighty trunks had formed a natural fence round our house, and checked the rush of the flood, which, instead of reaching us in an overwhelming wave, had been broken up, and its force destroyed before it could reach us.
Even the open fences about the garden had escaped, the water having played freely in and out; and though Hannibal’s hut had been lifted up and floated right away, the fence-top was now appearing above the water, and seemed to be quite unharmed.
The water sank so fast now that my father shouted to Morgan to let Sarah stay where she was till there was solid earth for her to descend to, and consequently he came down to see what he could do to help. That amounted to nothing, for until the water had passed away nothing could be done, save splash here and there, looking at the fruit-trees bestrewed with moss and muddy reeds and grass, while Morgan uttered groan after groan, as he at last saw the bushes and the tops of his vegetables appear covered with slime.
“The place is ruined, sir,” he groaned. “Whatever is to be done? Go back to the old country?”
“Get to work as soon as the place is dry,” replied my father. “A few showers of rain after the sun has dried and cracked the mud will soon wash your garden clean.”
Morgan shook his head. “And I don’t know what my poor wife will say to her kitchen.”
“Ah, now you are touching upon the more serious part, my man,” said my father. “Come, Morgan, you and I have got the better of worse troubles than this, so set to work, and by some means contrive to get fires going in each of the rooms.”
“With wet wood,” said Morgan, grumpily.
“Why, it’s only wet outside,” I cried. “Here, Pomp, try and find the little chopper. Know where it is?”