Sandy was in a fever of suspense. He came back again and again to see if their cabin still resisted the grip of the flood.
“There is a chance that it will hold out to the end!” he cried, as the boys stood there and watched the trembling roof of the home. “And, if it does, why we can easily find mother’s little treasure box, with the valuables she thinks so much of; and then there is our wampum belt, which Pontiac gave us with his own hands, to show all Indians, who might threaten us, that we were the friends and brothers of the sachem. Oh! I would feel pretty bad, I tell you, if that should be lost.”
“So would I, Sandy,” replied Bob; “because we’ve depended on that belt to keep the torch away from our settlement. Once it is lost, we are no better off than Boonesborough, or any other place around which the Indians constantly hover, ready to use bullets or arrows or torch upon the unsuspicious settlers. But, Sandy, cheer up. If the cabin does hold out to the end, we are sure to find the treasure box again; for you know it would float on the water, and could hardly escape from the interior, since the door is shut.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking, Bob,” returned the other. “But when will the water go down enough for us to cross over and find out the truth? Every minute seems like a whole hour to me; and the hours are like days.”
“Well, we can’t hurry the old river a bit by getting excited,” Bob continued, knowing of old the nervous nature of his brother; “so the best we can do is to try to make our mother and sister comfortable. They have gone into the blockhouse, you see, and it is there we must carry some of our belongings; for the women and children will have to sleep there for some days. Even the cabins that are left standing will be so water-soaked that it would never do for children to sleep in them until they are dried out by fires.”
And so, in this labor of love, even Sandy was enabled to forget, for a time at least, his troubles and anxieties.
The river, while at a stand, had not as yet started to go down, though by night, the older and more experienced among the settlers declared, they might expect to see some difference in the height of the waters.
Many anxious eyes were cast upward toward the heavens during the morning; and hardly a fleecy cloud that came sailing into sight but was viewed with more or less fear, lest it turn into a vapory billow that would quickly overspread the blue arch, and let down another torrential rain.
But the air was clear and crisp, and in truth it had apparently cleared up for good, as if Nature were satisfied with the damage already wrought.
The big blockhouse had been built with the thought that, in case of an Indian attack, it would be called on to hold all in the little settlement. Around it a high stockade or palisade had been erected, behind the shelter of which the defenders might hold their own against the crafty foe, shooting through loopholes that had been made for guns.