The Water Spout.
On a cold rainy day in the month of September, 1689, two emigrant wagons,
each drawn by a pair of oxen, was seen passing along the old Kingston
trail, on the east side of the Neversink, toward Peanpack. The day was
far advanced, and the night was threatening. The women, children and
furniture were concealed within a covered wagon. The drivers, with a
hickory gad in their hands, were beside the oxen. And thus, over stump,
log and stone, they trudged along. An opening is made in the cover, and
a sweet, pretty face peeps out. Lewis, ain’t we most to Peanpack? I’m
cold, tired and hungry, and Amy is quite sick. Get along, said Lewis,
at the same time bringing the gad down on the oxen. Yes, replied he, we
will soon be there, and if the pesky red-skins will let us alone we will
have a good night’s rest. This was Lewis Powers with his wife and child
en route for the far west in search of a home. Amy, their daughter, was
a bright little girl, five years old. His wife was a model of a wife and
mother, twenty-two years old, whilst Lewis was twenty-six, a strong,
robust and healthy man. The next wagon contained William Wallace, wife
and boy. Just as the sun was hiding itself behind the western hills, the
party reached the Peanpack ford. This was passed safely, and, passing up
the banks a few rods they encamped for the night. The wagon was unpacked,
and out came a young Newfoundland dog and two white cats. A fire was
built and in a short time the party sat down to supper. The party had
left Connecticut eleven days before and had now reached within three
days journey of their future home. Wallace’s boy’s name was Walter and
he was six years old. The next morning they broke camp and the next
night camped on the west side of the Mongaup. The next day brought them
to Beaver Brook, and just after sunset of the third day they arrived on
the banks of the Callicoon, or East Branch of the Fishkill (Delaware.)
They selected a spot on the south side of the stream and went to work
in earnest to clear a farm. Wallace located about half a mile up stream
above Powers. In the course of a few days each of them had built a small,
but comfortable log house. A confiding friendship was soon established
between Walter and Amy, and the dog, Rolla, grew to be large and
sagacious. Wallace’s house stood but a few rods below a large beaver dam
that flowed over several hundred acres. They brought with them a large
quantity of ammunition and traps. Otter and beaver were plenty in the
streams and before the arrival of spring the two men had dried several
hundred dollars worth of furs which they sold to the traders that went up
and down the river in flat boats.
Thus, year after year passed. Nothing occurred to disturb the harmony of
the settlers. Now and then a straggling Indian called, but never molested
them. They were contented and prosperous. Amy was now ten and Walter
twelve years old. The mothers of the children had taught them to read and
write. Several acres of land had been cleared on each farm and log barns
built. But now a misfortune that entirely changes the destiny of these
families overtakes them. An unusual drouth had occurred. Little or no
rain had fallen during the months of June and July. The heat was intense
and almost unbearable.
Powers was dressing a deer that he had just shot in the river. Amy
and Rolla were playing at the door and Mary was writing a letter to
her Connecticut friends to send by the next trading party, when an
unlooked-for clap of thunder broke upon them. Instantly a dark cloud is
seen in the west. It was so dark and thick that it almost shut out the
light of the sun. Then came a gust of wind which increased in its fury
every moment. This was followed by a heavy rain. It fell in such torrents
that in less than an hour the river began to rise and overflow the banks.
Just then Walter Wallace came running in and said:
Father wants you to come and help him. There has been a water spout. The
beaver dam is going out, and we will all be washed away.
Before Walter had finished his story, Powers was on his way to assist his
neighbor. On arriving there, he was convinced that nothing could save
them. The storm was raging in all its fury. Trees were torn up by their
roots, and the air was filled with branches.
Save your wife and child, cried out Powers; get them on the raft.
Wallace’s wife and Powers sprang to the raft. Wallace cried out to his
son: Go into the house and get my gun. Walter sprang into the house and
took down the gun. The crash came. The entire beaver dam had given away
and the water and logs passed between him and the raft. Walter sprang
on a fallen tree and escaped to high ground. Turning, he saw that the
raft, with his father, mother and Powers had broken loose and was swiftly
passing down the stream, surrounded by trees and logs. In a few moments
the house shared the same fate. Thus, in an hour, what they had toiled
for years to build up, was, in a moment, washed away.
Mary Powers, as soon as her husband left, went to the river bank. She
was convinced from the appearance of the water spout that her own home
would soon be washed away. The water was now running around the house and
retreat to the higher ground was cut off. With the sagacity of a mother,
she ordered Amy on the raft that was tied to a sapling on the river bank
but a few feet from the door, and then hurriedly throwing a blanket over
her shoulders, stepped on the raft. Rolla whined and barked, jumping out
of the house and then in again, as if in search of something he did not
like to leave behind. The white cat appeared and Rolla took her in his
mouth and with a bound leaped on the raft. At that moment Wallace and his
wife passed her.
Where is Powers? cried the anxious wife and mother. The incessant slash
of the water prevented her from hearing, but Wallace’s finger pointed to
the water.
Drowned! she cried. Amy, you have no father.
For over an hour the sapling held the raft, when a gigantic tree that had
been washed from the banks, struck it, and they were hurled into the foam
of that mad stream. One, and only one saw them start. Walter Wallace had
reached a point of land opposite Power’s house, but could get no nearer.
A few moments after the raft broke loose the house followed. As young
as Walter was, he took in the situation, and realized the fact that he
was not only an orphan, but that Amy and Mary must meet a watery grave.
No boat could live in that wild stream. He had but one thing to console
him—the dog and cat might swim ashore and find him. Then he gave vent to
his pent up feelings and cried until he fell asleep, where we will leave
him for the present.