It was a grateful thing to be at rest, even so precariously, after all the twisting and twirling they had come through; and Bridget, rising stiffly and shaking herself, with the fear of present death gone out of her soul, said,—
‘Praise the saints! Sure, Misther Fortyskeu, sorr, we oughter to be thankful for gettin’ this far wid clane shkins, so we ought! Sorra a one ov me ’ll go any furder if I can help it! Is the wather raisin’ yet, does ye think, sorr?’
‘I’m afraid it is, Bridget,’ said Fortescue, as he sat on a stout limb supporting Daisy beside him. ‘I hope, though, it won’t rise over the top of this tree.’ But, disquieted by the idea, he presently got into the water and tightened the lashings of the raft as well as he was able.
It was a long, dreary night, especially after the moon went down. Fortunately it was warm and fine. Indeed, throughout that trying time of flood, curiously enough, not a single point of rain fell in that region. They talked of many things, these two, nestling snugly in a great fork of the giant apple-tree, but their chief [224] ]subject was the old, old story; whilst Bridget, just below them, alternately invoked heavenly succour and lamented earthly losses.
‘Twinty wan poun’ notes undther me head in the bolsther, an’ me too hurried an’ flurried to remimber ’em! Sure, it’s clane roond I am afther this noight, bad cess to it! But for Father Dennis’s wather—may glory be his bed whin his toime comes—it’s at the bottom wid the sheep and craturs I’d be afore now, so it is! May the saints above sind the blessed light an’ the masther wid a ship to us! Ochone! Miss Daisy, me darlin’, I knows it’s hard on ye too. An’ for ye too, sorr—God forgive me thinkin’ ye wasn’t quite so smart as ye moight be!’
And so she rambled on, unheeded by the lovers perched in the big fork above her.
Dawn at last, bright and clear, with presently a brilliant sun.
To his relief, Fortescue saw by the marks on the tree that the water was falling. By noon the raft was suspended high and dry. But still a lamentable procession of sheep and household débris, with an occasional horse or bullock, hurried along the swift central stream, at whose very verge a merciful Providence had arrested the raft. Presently Fortescue was lucky enough to secure a pumpkin out of the dozens floating about, and the three divided and ate it with an appetite. Slowly the shadows lengthened. Other tree tops, dishevelled and dirty with driftage, began to appear around them. The water was falling rapidly. But were they to pass [225] ]another night there? Fortescue began to fear so, and was even setting about the construction of a platform out of the raft, when a loud ‘Coo-ee-e-e!’ made him start. ‘Coo-ee-e-e!’ in answer; and then a small boat pulled by two men came through the branches of the big tree.
‘Hoorar!’ shouted one. ‘We was afraid it was all up with yees! But where’s the Boss?’
‘My father went to the out-station yesterday,’ replied Daisy.