I bounded up the mountainside to where the band were at work upon the rafts, and yelled out what I had seen. There was a joyous answering roar, the stone axes, the thongs and withes, all things in use, were cast aside, and the band streamed down together to the shore to assure themselves that I was not mistaken. Scarcely had we regained the camp when came another heartening thing. The rain, which had fallen in such torrents unceasingly for days and nights, began to slacken and in a little time had ceased entirely. The vast leaden pall which had hung over the world began to lighten somewhat, as well, and again we felt that there was a sun beyond it. It was a new world, and to us a glorious one! We could see things far away again, and we looked for the lone mountain to the south where must be huddled what few might remain alive of the Goatskins. It was nearly submerged. Its peak stood out merely a little dot on the wide expanse of water. Those clustered upon it must be assured that they were the only human beings left alive. How the legend of destruction of all other mankind would go down among them! How their children and their children’s children would transmit the story, and how the old men of many scores of centuries later would repeat it to the youth! How it would pass in the fullness of time, to generations more civilized, how the Chaldean priests would make of it a story of supernatural significance, to be enlarged by those teachings in the cities of clustered splendour where the Tigris and Euphrates join, and how, finally, it would be accepted and adapted by the prophets of a great tribe of shepherd kings, whose petty battles would, perhaps, become a credited part of the world’s history. How, too, might it become part of a mighty faith--a faith encompassing the world!