When the afternoon was about half spent, the negroes that father had hired as mule drivers came in with all our herd of oxen and cows. They reported that father, with John and Zeba, had kept on having seen the mules far away in the distance, and it was reasonable to suppose they would return to us before night had set in. This they did not do, however, and mother and I were troubled because of their absence, yet we could do nothing but sit there, idly watching the sheep and gazing down now and then into the valley to mark the ebb of the waters. [Illustration] THE FIRST MEAL AFTER THE FLOOD Half an hour before sunset, when the wagons stood out plainly in view, with the flood hardly more than up to their axles, I called upon the negroes to follow me, and we set out to look among our belongings for something to eat. After searching about we came upon a side of bacon, which looked but little the worse for its long bath, save that it was coated in a most unpleasant fashion with mud. Thinking it impossible for us to find any other thing in condition for eating until after it had been well dried, we turned to the grove of pecans with our small prize. I built a fire near where mother's shelter of branches and leaves had been set up. Then from the mesquite bushes I cut twigs which would serve as forks to hold the meat in front of the blaze. After this I carved the bacon with the knife from my belt, and mother broiled slice after slice, the savory odor causing me to realize how exceedingly hungry I was. We ate heartily, almost greedily. When our hunger had been partly satisfied, we sat down to await the coming of father, speculating upon his prolonged absence, until we had imagined that all sorts of evil had befallen him. WAITING FOR FATHER He who crosses a bridge before he comes to it, or, in other words, the man or the lad who looks into the future for trouble, proves himself to be foolish, for all the worry of mind one may suffer will not change events by so much as a hair's breadth. [Illustration] If mother and I had remained there talking of this thing or of that which had happened in Bolivar County, and not looking out across the prairie with the idea that harm had befallen father, then the evening might have been a pleasant one; but instead, we were almost distracted with fear, until about midnight, when the trampling of hoofs in the distance told us that the mules had been rounded up. It seemed strange to me, when father and the negroes came into camp, bringing the mules with them, that in the stampede we had not lost a single animal. Every ox, cow, mule, and sheep that had been with us in the valley before the flood was now returned and herded in front of the pecan motte as peacefully as though nothing had occurred. But not far away we could hear the snarling, shrieking, and barking of the coyotes which served almost to make it seem as if that flood had been no more than a disagreeable dream.