THE BROKEN DAM
By nine o'clock the Jolly Rovers were afloat--adrift would be a better
word, since the swift current made the paddles unnecessary, except for a
guiding touch now and then. It did not occur to the boys to delay their
departure on account of the flood. They were tired of the camping place,
and moreover the high water would likely be a help rather than a
hindrance.
They found it keenly exhilarating to lean lazily back in their canoes
and be carried at a whirling pace around bend after bend. There was just
enough danger from submerged islands and reefs, and floating _débris_,
to add spice to the enjoyment.
Here and there, where the creek passed through low country, the fields
were inundated, and only the tops of the fences could be seen above the
water.
A mile or two below camp a sudden sweep of the channel brought into view
a red wooden bridge. The creek, being wide at this point, the bridge was
supported in the center by a narrow, squarely built pier.
As the boys came closer they saw that the pier had been shattered by
some terrific power. The whole face of it was torn away, and the frail
portion that remained seemed in danger of being carried off by the
yellow flood that was surging against it. Two men had climbed down from
an opening in the bridge, and were busy among the loose stones,
evidently trying to fit them into place again. From the left shore a
little knot of people was watching the operation.
Naturally the boys were curious to know what it meant, and when they
drew near they slackened the speed of the canoes by backing water
vigorously with their paddles.
"Did the flood do all that damage?" asked Ned.
"No," answered one of the men, stopping work to look up, "the ice did it
last winter, and the commissioners neglected to have it repaired. A
pretty bill they're likely to have to pay for their carelessness. It's
too late to do anything now."
"That's so," assented the other man; "we may as well stop work and get
out of this."
"But what danger are you afraid of now?" resumed Ned. "The pier has
stood the worst of the flood and the water is going down."
The first speaker jerked his finger up the creek. "They say that Honck's
dam is liable to break at any minute," he answered slowly. "It's a
mighty old dam, and has been threatenin' to give 'way fur the last ten
years. It's a big high one, too, and has a heap of timber in it. Just as
surely as that mass of stuff comes down the creek with a volume of
water behind it, this pier will go to pieces and down will come the
bridge."
"Do you really think the dam will break?" asked Ned.
"It's ten to one," was the reply. "They say the edges are giving way
now. You fellows had better get off the creek afore it's too late. Them
cockleshell boats won't stand much."
With this warning the speaker climbed up the pier, followed by his
companion, and both disappeared in the bridge. The boys lifted their
paddles from the water and went swiftly on with the current for the time
being.
"These rustics have exaggerated the danger, I'll bet anything," said
Randy. "If Honck's dam was going to break it would not have waited until
the flood was half way down."
"I don't know about that," replied Ned. "The danger may be very real."
He had given the dam some attention while the canoes were being carried
around it on the previous Wednesday, and he now remembered with secret
uneasiness that it was very high and rotten, and held in check a vast
volume of water. Terrible would be the consequences if this were
suddenly to be freed.
"What are we going to do?" asked Nugget uneasily.
"That man warned us to leave the creek, and he knew what he was talking
about."
"We can't very well take his advice now," replied Ned, "for there is no
landing place in sight."
"There is no use in stopping at all," exclaimed Randy, "if the object is
to wait for the dam to break. We might be detained for a week, and then
find that the dam was as strong as ever. And besides we could hear the
noise in time to get out of the way. All we need to do is keep our ears
open and look behind from time to time."
"Even if the dam should break the chances are that with such a current
as this we could keep ahead of the flood," suggested Clay. "Don't you
think so, Ned?"
"I'm afraid that's doubtful," replied. Ned. "At all events I don't think
I should care to run a race with the flood even on a start of half a
dozen miles. For the present we had better follow Randy's advice and
keep our eyes and ears open. If we find a suitable place I am in favor
of stopping for an hour or two. We are too near home to risk disaster."
This arrangement was satisfactory to all except Nugget, and he made no
outward remonstrance.
For the next two hours all went well, and mile after mile was swiftly
traversed. The boys kept in mid-channel so as to reap the fullest
advantage from the current.
They looked back from time to time, but neither saw nor heard anything
alarming. The smooth yellow flood glided between the wooded banks with
scarcely a murmur.
About midday the creek turned a sharp angle, and headed due north in a
straight course of fully half a mile. Beyond the steep hills that
terminated this stretch the boys could see the distant blue line of the
mountains.
The fears of the morning had vanished, and all were in buoyant spirits.
The home-coming loomed brightly before them now, for with such a current
the Susquehanna would soon be reached.
On the left hand side of the creek stretched a sloping hill, wooded for
a distance of two or three hundred yards as it receded from the water,
and then merging into open fields. On the right was a rugged cliff full
of limestone rocks and scrawly pine trees.
The boys did not pay much attention to their surroundings, but when they
were nearly half way to the bend, Randy happened to glance toward the
left, and on the very crest of the hill, a good quarter of a mile from
the water, he saw a little white farmhouse.
There was nothing in this to attract his attention, but as his gaze
lingered he saw a man come out on the porch and glance up the creek,
shading his eyes with his hand. Then he turned toward the house, and an
instant later two women and another man appeared and looked in the same
direction.
This was growing interesting, and Randy called the attention of his
companions to the farmhouse. What happened next was stranger still. The
little group on the porch suddenly caught sight of the canoes far below
them, and one of the men darted quickly into the house. He reappeared a
second or two later with a shiny object in his hand, and placing it to
his mouth he blew a shrill discordant blast that echoed far over the
hills.
He repeated this twice, and then all of the group began to shout and
wave their hands.
The boys glanced at one another in amazement. What was the meaning of
such an idiotic performance?
Suddenly Ned turned pale.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "The dam must have broken, and those people
can see the flood somewhere up the creek. They are warning us to get out
of the way."
The boys instinctively turned to look behind, but the first glance
revealed no cause for alarm.
"All right so far," cried Randy. "The current seems to be getting
swifter though, and I actually believe the water is rising."
He had hardly spoken when Ned uttered a startled cry. "Look! look! there
it comes!"
Around the sharp curve above swept a sloping volume of water, yellow
with mud and foam, black with timber and uprooted trees. It came on with
a rush and a swelling roar, and as the frightened boys watched it with
terrible fascination, a section of a wooden bridge painted red hove in
sight.
The imminence of the danger drove the Jolly Rovers into a helpless
panic. Even Ned was frightened out of his self possession.
The right shore was the nearest, and the boys paddled for it with
furious strokes, not remembering for an instant that it offered the
least chance of safety. The swift current whirled the canoes down stream
for nearly a hundred yards before it would suffer them to glide into the
calmer waters along the bank.
Randy and Clay, being on the outer side, had more to overcome, and were
swept beyond their companions. Ned and Nugget drifted against a
precipitous wall of rock that rose twenty feet before its surface was
broken by the tree or brush.
They looked hopelessly around them, vainly seeking a chance of escape,
while louder and louder in their ears sounded the hissing roar of the
oncoming flood. At the base of the cliff the water was already boiling
and tossing.