“Stay,” cried Harry, “if we get it up into this fork it will serve as a back to our sleeping-place, and the rope passed two or three times backwards and forwards will secure the sides.” Harry had his axe in his belt. “We must cut some boughs to raise the sides, lest we should stray in our sleep and tumble overboard.”
By creeping along one of the boughs they were able to reach some small branches suited to their purpose. These were secured by means of some of the fine vines which hung about the boughs. Harry and Reggy declared the nest they had formed was perfect.
“I vote we have an annual feast here in commemoration of this flood,” said Harry, “and we will invite our friends to join us.”
“It will hold all who come,” growled Hector. “I would rather try to forget so disagreeable an event.”
“There are some fellows who are never satisfied,” said Harry, looking away from Hector.
Harry did his best to keep up his cousins’ spirits and his own by talking away. Their conversation was interrupted by feeling some heavy body strike the tree, and looking down they saw a bullock, which had come down the torrent, driven against some of the lower branches, on which the poor animal was endeavouring to find a foot-hold; it succeeded, and remained fixed in the boughs. Its struggles soon ceased, and it was pretty clear that, overcome by its exertions, it was dead, for its head hung over the boughs into the water.
“No fear of starving,” said Harry; “we may have as much beef-steak as we like.”
“Thank you! I’d rather not eat such horrid stuff,” said Hector.
“As you please,” answered Harry. “The time may come when you will change your tone.”
Night was approaching, the water was evidently rising less rapidly than before, still it was spreading over the country. Here and there hillocks and knolls appeared like islands in the midst of the sea.