When I gathered my wits about me sufficiently to obey the command, I saw that he, with the negroes, was striving desperately to haul one of the heavy wagons from the bank of the stream; but so sodden with water was the earth that the wheels sank into the soft surface to the depth of two or three inches, and, struggle as they might, it could not be moved a single pace. SAVING OUR OWN LIVES [Illustration] "Gather up the spare clothing, and take your mother with you!" father shouted as I came up to where the black men were standing dumbly by the side of the wagon they had so vainly attempted to haul. I cried out dully, grown stupid with fear, asking where I should go with mother; but even while speaking, I had sufficient common sense remaining to pull out from among our belongings as many water-soaked garments as I could get my hands on. "Go to the high land!" father shouted, and literally dragged mother out from her seat in the wagon, where she had been crouching since the water flooded the cook camp. She had her wits about her sufficiently to understand what father would have us do. Calling on me to follow, she took from my arms a portion of the burden and set off straight across that increasing flood of water in the direction taken by the animals. She realized that they, prompted by instinct, would lead the way to the highest point of land. Thus we two, mother and I, abandoned father and all our belongings, and it surely seemed as if we were leaving him to a terrible fate. I would have come to a full stop in order to urge him to follow us, but mother called out that I should not slacken pace. She said that he knew better than we what should be done, and that he would follow without loss of time. It seemed to me that we had no sooner gained the top of the bank, and from there the highest point of one of the prairie hills, when, looking around, I saw father and the negroes coming at full speed, as if fleeing from death itself. And this really was the case, as I saw a few seconds later. I would have run toward the edge of the valley in the hope of helping them, but mother held me back. A RAGING TORRENT [Illustration] The roar of the coming flood was deafening. Father and the slaves were yet clambering up the side of the valley when I saw, coming down the channel of the river, a raging torrent which bore on its surface trunks of trees such as would have dealt death to any one who might have been in their line of advance. On the waters were fragments of wood, bunches of mesquite bushes, and I fancied now and then the body of an ox; but it was all a scene of confusion, of noise, and of menace.