Just then Harry, arriving from the hut, came into the room.
“Come along, Harry,” cried Reggy, “you said there would be time for a bathe before breakfast.”
“I’m your man,” said Harry. “Come, be quick, Hector, or we shall be back before you have put the finishing touch to your toilet.”
The two lads hurried down to the river. Except in the water-holes which were joined by a trickling rivulet the whole bed was dry, but the ponds were of sufficient depth to afford a pleasant bath.
The boys were on the point of throwing off their clothes to plunge in, when Harry exclaimed, “Hark! what’s that sound?”
“It is like distant thunder,” answered Reggy.
“It can’t be thunder, there’s not a cloud in the sky,” replied Harry. “It seems to me to be coming right down the river. I don’t like it; I heard just such a sound some years ago, when a great flood came down and rose nearly up to the house. We won’t bathe, but run back and tell father; he’ll judge what it is and what’s best to be done.”
The boys hurried back; but before they had got up to the top of the bank the roaring sound had greatly increased, and Harry was more convinced than before that a heavy flood was approaching.