His mother laughed but said nothing. The cat and kittens were carried near the warm stove and given milk, and soon they were purring contentedly.
"Something good came out of the flood, anyhow," said Captain Ben, when he saw the now happy little family.
"How do you suppose they got on the board?" asked Russ, as he rubbed the now soft and dry fur of one of the kittens.
"I presume the old cat had her family out in some barn or woodshed," answered the marine. "When the water began to rise she crawled with them up as high as she could to keep dry. But the water kept on rising and finally floated her off on the board, as though it were a boat. I don't know where they came from, but we'll keep them until some one claims them."
"I'm going to keep one forever and take it home with me!" declared Margy, who had a black kitten in her lap.
"So'm I!" added Mun Bun, who was lifting up a black and white kitten.
It rained all that night, but the sun shone and the storm was over the next day. The flood did very little real damage, aside from floating away Mr. Wendell's chicken coops and filling Captain Ben's cellar with water. And almost as quickly as it had risen the small river went down again. The ocean and bay were not changed by all the rain that had fallen. The tides rose and fell just the same.
One bright, sunny day, shortly after the flood, when the old cat and her kittens had begun to feel quite at home in the bungalow, Captain Ben came up from the dock where he and Daddy Bunker had been working on the motor boat.
"Now the Spray is all ready for a long trip," said the sailor. "We shall go on our island picnic to-morrow."
"Oh, what fun!" laughed the six little Bunkers.