None of them felt much of dismay at the havoc around them: beyond their chests with their Sunday clothes and at most two clean shirts, neither of the men had anything to lose worth mentioning; and for Donal, he would gladly have given even his books for such a ploy.
"There's ae thing, mither," he said, entering the kitchen, covered with mud, a rabbit in one hand and a large salmon in the other, "we're no like to sterve, wi' sawmon i' the hedges, an' mappies i'
the trees!"
His master questioned him with no little incredulity.It was easy to believe in salmon anywhere, but rabbits in trees!
"I catched it i' the brainches o' a lairick (larch)," Donal answered, "easy eneuch, for it cudna rin far, an' was mair fleyt at the watter nor at me; but for the sawmon, haith I was ower an' ower wi' hit i' the watter, efter I gruppit it, er' I cud ca' 't my ain."Before the flood subsided, not a few rabbits were caught in trees, mostly spruce-firs and larches.For salmon, they were taken everywhere--among grass, corn, and potatoes, in bushes, and hedges, and cottages.One was caught on a lawn with an umbrella; one was reported to have been found in a press-bed; another, coiled round in a pot hanging from the crook--ready to be boiled, only that he was alive and undressed.
Donal was still being cross-questioned by his master when the strange woman re-entered.Lying upon her straw, she had seen, through the fanlight over the stable door, the swiftness of the current there passing, and understood the danger.
"I doobt," she said, addressing no one in particular, "the ga'le o'
the stable winna stan' abune anither half-hoor.""It maun fa' than," said the farmer, taking a pinch of snuff in hopeless serenity, and turning away.
"Hoots!" said the woman, "dinna speyk that gait, sir.It's no wice-like.Tak a dram, an' tak hert, an' dinna fling the calf efter the coo.Whaur's yer boatle, sir?"John paid no heed to her suggestion, but Jean took it up.
"The boatle's whaur ye s' no lay han' upo' 't," she said.
"Weel, gien ye hae nae mercy upo' yer whusky, ye sud hae some upo'
yer horse-beasts, ony gait," said the woman indignantly.
"What mean ye by that?" returned Jean, with hard voice, and eye of blame.
"Ye might at the leest gie the puir things a chance," the woman rejoined.
"Hoo wad ye dee that?" said Jean."Gien ye lowsed them they wad but tak to the watter wi' fear, an' droon the seener.""Na, na, Jean," interposed the farmer, "they wad tak care o'
themsel's to the last, an' aye haud to the dryest, jist as ye wad yersel'.""Allooin'," said the stranger, replying to Jean, yet speaking rather as if to herself, while she thought about something else, "I wad raither droon soomin' nor tied by the heid.--But what's the guid o'
doctrine whaur there's onything to be dune?--Ye hae whaur to put them.--What kin' 's the fleers (floors) up the stair, sir?" she asked abruptly, turning full on her host, with a flash in her deep-set black eyes.
"Ow, guid dale fleers--what ither?" answered the farmer."--It's the wa's, wuman, no the fleers we hae to be concernt aboot i' this wather.""Gien the j'ists be strang, an' weel set intil the wa's, what for sudna ye tak the horse up the stair intil yer bedrooms? It'll be a'
to the guid o' the wa's, for the weicht o' the beasts 'll be upo'
them to haud them doon, an' the haill hoose again' the watter.An'
1
else; for the byre wa's 'ill gang afore the hoose."Mr.Duff broke into a strange laughter.
"Wad ye no tak up the carpets first, wuman?" he said.
"I wad," she answered; "that gangs ohn speirt--gien there was time;but I tell ye there's nane; an' ye'll buy twa or three carpets for the price o' ae horse.""Haith! the wuman's i' the richt," he cried, suddenly waking up to the sense of the proposal, and shot from the house.
All the women, Jean making no exception to any help now, rushed to carry the beds and blankets to the garret.
Just as Mr.Duff entered the stable from the nearer end, the opposite gable fell out with a great splash, letting in the wide level vision of turbidly raging waters, fading into the obscurity of the wind-driven rain.While he stared aghast, a great tree struck the wall like a battering-ram, so that the stable shook.The horses, which had been for some time moving uneasily, were now quite scared.There was not a moment to be lost.Duff shouted for his men; one or two came running; and in less than a minute more those in the house heard the iron-shod feet splashing and stamping through the water, as, one after another, the horses were brought across the yard to the door of the house.Mr.Duff led by the halter his favourite Snowball, who was a good deal excited, plunging and rearing so that it was all he could do to hold him.He had ordered the men to take the others first, thinking he would follow more quietly.But the moment Snowball heard the first thundering of hoofs on the stair, he went out of his senses with terror, broke from his master, and went plunging back to the stable.Duff darted after him, but was only in time to see him rush from the further end into the swift current, where he was at once out of his depth, and was instantly caught and hurried, rolling over and over, from his master's sight.He ran back into the house, and up to the highest window.From that he caught sight of him a long way down, swimming.
Once or twice he saw him turned heels over head--only to get his neck up again presently, and swim as well as before.But alas! it was in the direction of the Daur, which would soon, his master did not doubt, sweep his carcase into the North Sea.With troubled heart he strained his sight after him as long as he could distinguish his lessening head, but it got amongst some wreck, and unable to tell any more whether he saw it or not, he returned to his men with his eyes full of tears.
