You, whom the Cave Man battled, whom we call Nature, because we know no better name, Goddess of gentleness and torture-flame, Still are you despot; still are we the thrall; Still we can only wait what Fate may fall From your wild pinions that no man can tame. Nor gold or gain, nor battlement or wall Shall guard us from the primal flood and flame. Our castled cities tower to your skies. 'Gainst wind and wave we pile our stone and mold. Powered of genius, panoplied of gold, We build the bastions of our high emprise. But yet, but let the plunging torrent rise, The winds awake on glutted rivers rolled-- We die as the reft robin fledgeling dies-- We perish as the beast in jungles old. We dream that we are conquerors of Earth; We think that we are mighty, that we dare Scorn your grim power--till we glimpse the flare Of burning Death 'mid holiness of Birth. What is our godliness and wisdom worth Against your strength embattled unaware? You are the Master, ever, everywhere, Deadly and gentle o'er the wide World's girth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - CHAPTER II THE DEATH-BEARING FLOOD AT DAYTON EXTENT OF THE FLOOD--THE RESERVOIR BREAKS--BUSINESS SECTION FLOODED--THOUSANDS MAROONED--MANY CREEP TO SAFETY BY CABLE--JOHN H. PATTERSON, CASH REGISTER HEAD, LEADS RELIEF--EMPLOYEES ASSIST IN RELIEF--SCENES OF HORROR--APPEALS FOR AID. It remained for two telephone operators to be the real factors in giving to the world the news of the first day of the flood which inundated Dayton, Ohio, and the whole of the Miami Valley on Tuesday, March 25th. One, in the main exchange at Dayton, flashed the last tidings that came out of the stricken city by telephone, and delivered to Governor Cox news which enabled him to grasp the situation and start the rescue work. The other was the operator at Phoneton, who served as a relay operator for the man in Dayton. They stood to their posts as long as the wires held, and worked all day and night. EXTENT OF THE FLOOD A seething flood of water from eight to twenty feet deep covered all but the outlying sections of the city by the evening of the 25th. Beneath the waters and within the ruined buildings lay the unnumbered dead. The flooded districts comprised practically a circle with a radius of a mile and a half, and in no place was the water less than six feet deep. In Main Street, in the downtown section, the water was twenty feet deep. The horror of the flooded district was heightened by more than a dozen fires which could be seen in the flooded district, but out of reach of fire fighters.