“There, the horses have given us up as a bad job, and they’ve turned toward the land, you see!” announced Tip triumphantly. As he patted the head of Carlo, the dog pushed up close alongside him.
“Sorry to say, it’s raining again,” added Billy. “You can see it on the water.”
“That’s a bad thing all around for those who are without a shelter,” Hugh observed. “Of course it matters very little to us, because we have a canopy overhead, and curtains if we want to use them. I’m afraid the end is a long way off still.”
“But from now on the rise isn’t apt to be so rapid, you see,” Tip continued. “It takes a lot more water to make an inch when it’s spread over such a big lot of territory. Here are miles and miles covered, and it’s the same way in other low places. Half of the country up in this region must be afloat.”
Pushing on, they approached what seemed to be a nest of houses and outbuildings built for sociability’s sake at the adjoining corners of the farms, so as to make a little community in the dull winter time.
“Looks like there are some people left there, because I saw a signal flutter!” announced Monkey Stallings.
“It’s unusually low ground around here,” said Tip. “I remember the place well, and they have the finest garden and truck patches of any about town when things are going on naturally. But the whole place looks now like it had been struck by lightning, and then by a cloudburst. The Williams live in the near house, and you can see that the water is up over the top of the lower story. There’s some one on the rooftree waving to us.”
“But I saw a white thing moving in that tree nearby,” declared Billy, “and if you listen you’ll hear them screeching right now.”
“Help! help! we’re all drowning! Oh! hurry and come to save us!”
Tip was seen to be smiling.