# Roy Blakeley's Adventures in Camp/Chapter XXVIII

CHAPTER XXVIII
TELLS ABOUT HOW DAME NATURE CHANGED HER MIND
MAYBE you'll laugh at that stopping a shower with sodas. But once on my way home from school I stopped in Vander's Drug Store to get a soda, and wait for the rain to stop. When I was finished it hadn't stopped, so I got another soda— a strawberry. Even after that the rain didn't stop and I was just going to start out anyway, when a man who was in there said, "Why don't you try, one more?' So I did—a pineapple—and by the time I had finished that, the rain had stopped. So that proves it.
But that day I'm telling you about, I guess it wouldn't have stopped even if we had stayed in Catskill a couple of hours drinking sodas. We got on one of the benches in the waiting room of the wharf where the Albany boats stop, and watched it rain, It was so thick that we could hardly see across the river. Merry Christmas, didn't it come down! We saw the big day boat go ​up and all her lights were burning, it was so dark on the river. I guess we waited a couple of hours.
"It's all on account of the old what's-his-name, St. Swithin," I said. "I bet he was the head of an umbrella trust."
Bert said, "Oh, I don't know, I kind of like rain. It's all part of the scout game." That was just like him, he had some use for everything.
I guess it must have been about supper time when it held up enough for us to start across. Anyway, I know I was hungry. But that was no proof it was supper time. Sometimes I've been hungry in the middle of the night. I guess St. Swithin stopped to have his supper; anyway, it began pouring again as soon as we got across.
"Anyway, we got the letters mailed," I said; "what do I care? Let it rain."
"I'm willing," Bert said, "as long as we can't stop it." We were both feeling good, even if we were wet.
"Suppose Lieutenant Donnelle writes and says he doesn't know anything about the money?" I said. Because now the excitement of getting the letters ready and all that was over, I began to feel a little shaky.
​Bert said, "Well, if it's a case of supposing, suppose we start home."
We hiked it back the same way we had come, all the way in a pelting rain. It came down in sheets—and pillowcases. When we hit into the old creek bed, the water was running through it just the same as if it was a regular creek. It was right up to the top of the bushes that grew there and dragging them sideways, as it rushed along.
"Well, what do you know about that?" I said.
Bert just stood looking at it and then he said, "That's no rain water."
"Sure it is," I said; "what else do you suppose it is?"
"Something's wrang," he said.
All of a sudden he reached in through the wet bushes and pulled something out. "Look at that," he said.
It was a sort of a little college pennant on a stick,
"Those fellows went to Catskill didn't they?" Bert asked me, kind of quick.
T told him, "Yes, I thought so." "Lucky for them," he said, "that's off their tent. Come on, hurry up."
We didn't try to go through the old creek bot​tom, but even alongside it we began coming to big puddles, and pretty soon we were wading through water up to our waists. Even a hundred feet away from it, the land was like a lake and we just plodded and stumbled through water. I knew now that the rain itself could never have done that. Pretty soon we must have got over into the old creek bed, because we stumbled and went kerflop in, and the next thing we knew, we were swimming.
"Let's get out of this, but try to keep near it," Bert said, "so we'll know where we're going. This has got me rattled. I don't know what's happened or where we're at. I don't even know if we're north or south of the creek bed."
It was pretty hard keeping near the hollow, because all the land was flooded and we had to feel each step. But if we got away from it, good night, we didn't know where we might end. Only, the trouble was, it kept getting worse and worse the farther we went, and it nearly toppled us over backwards, it was flowing so strong.
Pretty soon Bert stopped and said, "Listen."
We were both standing in the water up to our waists, and I was shivering, it was so cold.
"Do you hear the sound of water rushing?' he asked me.
​I listened and heard a sound far off like a waterfall.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Search me," Bert answered, "but we're in bad here. Let's head for the mountains."
Now I didn't know what had happened, except that the whole country was under water. When it comes to the lay of the land I can usually tell where I'm at, but when it comes to the lay of the water, good night, And believe me, there's nothing that changes the looks of things like water.
"I think those are the mountains that make Nick's Valley," I said; "let's try to get over that way."
"There's a waterfall coming down out of a crevice between them," Bert said; "I know what's happened, the valley is flooded."
You see we were in the low fields west of those mountains. I can't tell you just where, but somewhere. There were hollows in the fields so sometimes we were walking and sometimes we were swimming. It was the outside of the mountains that we saw, as you might say; I mean the side away from the valley, so the water coming out through a cleft proved that the water must be pretty high inside—I mean in Nick's Valley. I ​guess you'll see what I mean if you'll look at the map.
But, believe me, it wasn't easy to get to those mountains. Seeing them was one thing and getting to them was another. We just plodded around, stumbling off little hills that were under water and we didn't seem to get anywhere. After a while we came out on higher land where there wasn't much water except puddles.
"Some cruise, hey?" I said.
"Shh, listen!" Bert said. "You can hear it plainer now. Look over there."
Now as near as I can tell you we must have been standing near the north side of the old creek bottom and we must have been pretty close to the old silo, or whatever you call it, but we didn't know, that then. Believe me, we didn't know anything, except that we were wet. We were standing on a little sort of a hill and the water was washing up almost to our feet. Besides it was getting dark.
But anyway, this is what we saw, and if you just make believe that you're standing on a little hill near that old pit and looking south toward Black Lake, you'll see just what we saw—as you might say. We saw the water just pouring through Nick's Valley and coming toward us and ​going pell-mell into the old creek bed. Now that's the best way I can tell it to you. I guess the little hill we were on acted kind of like a back stop maybe (anyway, that's what Bert said) because the water only beat against it and then went tumbling back into the creek bed and down toward the Hudson. It was down that way that it overflowed mostly and flooded the fields we had been plodding through.
"One thing, we had a grandstand view," I said.
And believe me, that was true. The water just came pouring and rushing between those mountains, and sometimes we could see trees, and things we thought might be parts of houses coming along. One big white thing we saw, and we knew it was a tent. Black Lake was coming out to meet us through Nick's Valley.