Trees, earth, rocks, many of them of large size, and _débris_ of everything it had found in its course was scattered high and low by the swollen stream. "It was a narrow escape!" exclaimed Mr. Swett. "We owe our lives to you, Dix Lewis, for in saving Flossie here you gave the rest of us a chance to get away. See! the old mill is gone, and everything in it! But we must be thankful that no lives were lost." The flood subsided almost as quickly as it had come, leaving the marks of its awful desolation. Not a tree was left standing in the whole range of its fearful path, nor an object that its giant power could move. The road, as far as could be seen, was entirely obliterated, only a rock-strewn gulley showing where it had been. Not a piece of the timber of Swett's Mills was to be seen, and the foundation itself had been swept away! The house had been lifted bodily up and carried several rods, but standing higher than the mills, it had escaped the heavier part of the onset, so it had not been utterly ruined. Mr. Swett was inclined to take his loss philosophically. "I don't understand the cause of that breakage, for it was only yesterday that I was examining that dam, and could find no sign of a leak." Seeing that he could be of no benefit to the sufferers, as soon as he had given his horse a breathing spell, the postboy resumed his journey, feeling extremely thankful over his providential escape. "I shall prize you next to Jack now, Tom," he said, stroking the faithful creature's neck. "If you had been one whit less fleet it would have been all over with me. How I tremble now, though it is all over!" At Hutsland, Little Snap's first stopping place—in fact, the first town he came to—he told of the disaster in Tripping Waters Valley, his story being listened to with open-mouthed wonder. With as little delay as possible, a gang of men started to the scene, ready to do what they could toward restoring the fortunes of Mr. Swett and his family. Meeting with no adventure, the postboy reached Upper Loop, and upon his return he was accompanied by a party of a dozen men, who were going up to see the work of desolation. Thus when Little Snap got back to the place he found a large crowd gathered about the mouth of the valley. "You will have hard work to get through, Dix, but I suppose it would be hard work to stop you. Some of us will go up with you, if you wish it." CHAPTER XXXI. A STARTLING RELIC OF THE FLOOD. Declining this kind offer, the postboy continued on toward his destination, often finding it difficult to get along. But slowly he worked his way up the valley, until he reached the spot where in the forenoon the river had been spanned by the pole bridge. Of course there was no trace of this left. In fact, there was not a single familiar feature on the landscape of that doomed valley.