Bayard Taylor was born at Kennett Square, Penn., in 1825. He received a
limited school education, but at an early age displayed great energy and
talent. He was a great traveler, and a fluent, graceful writer, both of
prose and verse. Mr. Taylor held high official positions under the
government. The following selection is adapted from "The Story of
Kennett," He died in 1878.
1. The black, dreary night, seemed interminable. He could only guess, here
and there, at a landmark, and was forced to rely more upon Roger's
instinct of the road than upon the guidance of his senses. Toward
midnight, as he judged, by the solitary crow of a cock, the rain almost
entirely ceased.
2. The wind began to blow sharp and keen, and the hard vault of the sky to
lift a little. He fancied that the hills on his right had fallen away, and
that the horizon was suddenly depressed towards the north. Roger's feet
began to splash in constantly deepening water, and presently a roar,
distinct from that of the wind, filled the air.
3. It was the Brandywine. The stream had overflowed its broad meadow
bottoms, and was running high and fierce beyond its main channel. The
turbid waters made a dim, dusky gleam around him; soon the fences
disappeared, and the flood reached to his horse's body.
4. But he knew that the ford could be distinguished by the break in the
fringe of timber; moreover, that the creek bank was a little higher than
the meadows behind it, and so far, at least, he might venture. The ford
was not more than twenty yards across, and he could trust Roger to swim
that distance.
5. The faithful animal pressed bravely on, but Gilbert soon noticed that
he seemed at fault. The swift water had forced him out of the road, and he
stopped from time to time, as if anxious and uneasy. The timber could now
be discerned, only a short distance in advance, and in a few minutes they
would gain the bank.
6. What was that? A strange, rustling, hissing sound, as of cattle
trampling through dry reeds,--a sound which quivered and shook, even in
the breath of the hurrying wind! Roger snorted, stood still, and trembled
in every limb; and a sensation of awe and terror struck a chill through
Gilbert's heart. The sound drew swiftly nearer, and became a wild,
seething roar, filling the whole breadth of the valley.
7. "The dam! the dam!" cried Gilbert, "the dam has given way!" He turned
Roger's head, gave him the rein, struck, spurred, cheered, and shouted.
The brave beast struggled through the impeding flood, but the advance wave
of the coming inundation already touched his side. He staggered; a line of
churning foam bore down upon them, the terrible roar was all around and
over them, and horse and rider were whirled away.
8. What happened during the first few seconds, Gilbert could never
distinctly recall. Now they were whelmed in the water, now riding its
careering tide, torn through the tops of brushwood, jostled by floating
logs and timbers of the dam, but always, as it seemed, remorselessly held
in the heart of the tumult and the ruin.
[Transcriber's Footnote: careering--Path or course, as the moon through
the sky.]
9. He saw at last that they had fallen behind the furious onset of the
flood, but Roger was still swimming with it, desperately throwing up his
head from time to time, and snorting the water from his nostrils. All his
efforts to gain a foothold failed; his strength was nearly spent, and
unless some help should come in a few minutes it would come in vain. And
in the darkness, and the rapidity with which they were borne along, how
should help come?
10. All at once Roger's course stopped. He became an obstacle to the
flood, which pressed him against some other obstacle below, and rushed
over horse and rider. Thrusting out his hand, Gilbert felt the rough bark
of a tree. Leaning towards it, and clasping the log in his arms, he drew
himself from the saddle, while Roger, freed from his burden, struggled
into the current and instantly disappeared. 11. As nearly as Gilbert could
ascertain, several timbers, thrown over each other, had lodged, probably
upon a rocky islet in the stream, the uppermost one projecting slantingly
out of the flood. It required all his strength to resist the current which
sucked, and whirled, and tugged at his body, and to climb high enough to
escape its force, without overbalancing his support. At last, though still
half immerged, he found himself comparatively safe for a time, yet as far
as ever from a final rescue.
12. Yet a new danger now assailed him, from the increasing cold. There was
already a sting of frost, a breath of ice, in the wind. In another hour
the sky was nearly swept bare of clouds, and he could note the lapse of
the night by the sinking of the moon. But he was by this time hardly in a
condition to note anything more.
DEFINITIONS.--1. In-ter'mi-na-ble, endless. 2. De-pressed', low-ered. 3.
Tur'bid, muddy. 5. Dis-cerncd' (pro. diz-zerned'), made out,
distinguished. 6. Seeth'ing, boiling, bubbling. 7. Im-ped'ing, hindering,
obstucting. In-un-da'tion, a flood. 9. On'set, a rushing upon, attack. 11.
Im-merged', plunged under a liquid. 12. Lapse, a gradual passing away.