The herb woman placed her treasure in a covered basket, shut the hens in their coops, put fresh grass in Speckle's manger, let the dog, Rover, into the yard, locked the door of the little hut and went on her way to town. She walked lightly, as if she had grown younger during the winter and did not at all mind the long journey.
In town she was surprised at what she received for her gold; if she should live a hundred years, she could not use all her money. So it was placed in a bank for safe keeping and the people treated her with great respect. They knew that she had come from a good family, but as she had lived so modestly, no one knew how wealthy she was.
When she had made her purchases and finished her business, she wished to rest awhile in town, but word had come that the heavy rain in the mountains had caused the snow to melt and the water to rush down in torrents. She knew very well how bad the brook became when it was swollen and she worried lest the hut might be carried away and something happen to Speckle. So she hurried home and, on the way, she saw the swollen brook stretched out over the meadows like a lake.
When she reached the village, it was dark, and already the people were beginning to light up their houses. Many of the little foot bridges had been swept away, the water reached nearly to the village square and she found it impossible to cross the stream. The torrent raged and stormed, bearing along branches, small trees and cakes of ice.
In vain the old lady peered across the bank to the farther shore in the attempt to see if her little hut was still standing; but the darkness was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. There was nothing left for her to do but to ask the good villagers for shelter over night.
The next day, when the sun shone out, the torrent had subsided and the brook was running between its banks in a steady stream. The hut was still standing, but the bank was undermined and the little bridge carried away. So the widow had herself taken across in a boat and, in great anxiety, hurried to the hut to see what changes had been wrought. The garden was covered with mud and on the meadow were little pools of glistening water. Out of the yard bounded Rover barking heartily and, from her stall, Speckle mooed a welcome. The hens came hurrying out of their coop, flapping their wings and cackling, and straightway began to scratch in the ground in search of little worms. Inside the hut, the hall was wet through and in the best room stood little pools of water.
The herb woman took her broom and swept out some of the water and with a cloth mopped up the little pools. Near the hearth the water was quite deep and swirling around and running away through the hole behind. On the water swam a tiny barge formed from a hazel nut, and in this boat was a very small lad indeed, rowing with his oars of straw and working with all his might, so that the whirlpool should not carry him back into the hole.
