Coming to this abrupt rise, they were forced to search for a means of clambering up it. The woman in the buggy, at the man’s command, sprang from the seat and dashed hurriedly up the steep hill. The man in the meantime stopped to unhitch his horse, that the animal might have a chance for its life. Turning in her saddle, Shirley cried out in sudden fear. Behind, so close that it seemed to be right upon her and bearing down with tremendous speed, came a solid wall of water, many feet high. With a cry to her horse, the girl turned his head squarely to the hill. With his nostrils extended and his eyes dilated with fear, the animal sprang at it. With his light burden he gained a foothold and dashed up as fast as his weary limbs could carry him. Once he came to a place that seemed too much for him; but the noble steed made a last desperate effort and succeeded in getting his forefeet on top of the level ground above. With a single movement, Shirley flung herself from the saddle to the safety of the high ground, and in another moment seized the bridle of the horse, just as he would have slipped back into the raging flood that now swept by below. Exerting her utmost strength—and it was by no means slight—she succeeded in helping the animal to scramble to the summit. The occupants of the buggy had also succeeded in climbing to safety, but the second horse had been carried away by the sweeping waters. Henderson had been unable to loosen the animal, as he was forced to hurry to the support of Mrs. Henderson, who, almost in safety, had fainted and would have fallen back, had her husband’s arm not caught her. From this refuge, the three watched the waters as they swirled by with tremendous force. Kicking animals, sheds, barns and small houses, together with ruins and débris, swept past them, and more than once the young girl cried out in despair, as she realized the damage that had been done by the water. The three had climbed to the very top of the hill, as the water surrounded them on all sides. Gradually it rose, climbing closer and closer to them. Shirley became alarmed and turned to Henderson, who stood near her, still supporting his wife. “Will it come this high, do you think, Mr. Henderson?” Henderson shook his head. “There is no telling,” he replied quietly. “All we can do is to hope for the best.” All became silent, but their eyes were riveted upon the water as it closed in on them. Now there was but perhaps twenty yards of dry ground, then fifteen, and still the water rose. The rise continued until all stood in water, and then it rose no higher. “Thank God!” said Henderson, calmly, looking at his wife. “We are saved!” “Thank God, indeed,” said Shirley softly, and she turned and stroked the horse, who thrust his cold muzzle into her hand. “But for you,” she added, patting him gently, “hundreds would have been drowned!” CHAPTER II.—A DARING ACT.