“Here’s a pretty mess,” I said to myself. “I wonder how long I’m to be penned up in this place. Goodness knows my legs are tired enough already without having to stand on them all night; and I can’t very well sit down in two feet of water.” It suddenly occurred to me that I possessed a voice of tolerable strength and clearness, and that I might make good use of it upon the present occasion. Accordingly, I gave utterance to a few of the most startling shouts that probably ever assailed the ears of a mortal. But they were unsuccessful so far as escape was concerned. After I had shouted myself hoarse, I waited with patience for the arrival of a relief party. At the end of five minutes it hadn’t come; at the end of half an hour I didn’t believe it would come. “Surely,” I thought, “they must have heard those war-whoops at the house. At any rate it’s about time Eller started out to hunt me up. He certainly don’t think it’s going to take me forever to fix his plaguey windmill.” I was becoming worried. The prospect of having to remain cooped up in my present narrow quarters all night was by no means pleasant. The expectation of having to stand for the next ten hours in two feet of cold water was not pleasing to a person of my tastes. It might have done for one of those old-time monks, who were always imposing penances upon themselves for sins committed, but it was not suited to my constitution. Most cheerfully would I have resigned my position to any one expressing a wish for it. It was now pitch-dark in the tank. The only light I obtained was the feeble glow of the stars shining through the trap-door. I stood under this, gazing up wistfully into the heaven so high above me. After a time my eyes grew heavy, my head fell forward onto my breast, and, strange as it may appear, I dropped off into a gentle doze. I was awakened by a slight breeze fanning my cheek. I opened my eyes dreamily. Overhead I could hear a deep, rumbling, grating sound; something going up and down, up and down, as it were a monstrous churn in motion. “What can that be?” was my ejaculation. I was not left long in suspense. A perfect deluge of the coldest kind of water came pouring down over me, drenching me to the skin; giving me, in fact, a regular shower-bath. The stream continued without abatement, and I soon recovered sufficiently from my momentary astonishment and confusion to move out of the way. No one should say that I did not know enough to come in when it rained. As yet I was hardly awake. I stood to one side, getting splashed, and stupidly staring at the supply pipe, which was belching forth water. Then the solution of the problem flashed through my brain. The windmill was pumping. I was too startled at first to realize my peril. But gradually it dawned upon me that the water was rising fast, and that if I did not escape or relief did not come, in the course of a few hours I would be drowned like a rat in a trap.