The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1879-06-26

the mill till it passes over.
"Don't you believe it," returned the
farmer. eve have mad rain hanging
around for week past, and we've got
it now, sure enough. Do the best we
can, we shall be drenched. You run
on ahead, Tom, and put the horses in,
so as to be ready by the time we get
there Well be ight after you"
Obedient to his fathers advice, Tom
hurried rapidly along the path leading
to the spot where the team had been
left, while the remainder of the party
followed after as fast as they could. The
place was reached at last. The wagon
was there, the two brides lay just where
they were thrown, but the horses were
gone
For moment the farmer stood dumb
founded; then he began to examine
their tracks.
cts plain enough" at last he
hurriedly said. They've slipped the
halter and have started back home.
You'll have to see if you can overtake
them, Tom. I'll take your mother and
children back to the mill. The wind is
rising, and it is setting in for cold, raw
Storm"
The rain came faster and faster, and
by the time they had regained the
shelter of the mill they were thoroughly
wet through. A fire was soon kindled
in the little cracked stove used by the
single makers the Winter before, and
the time spent in waiting for Toms re-
turn was employed in drying their gar
ments.
An hour passed away. The storm
grew more and more furious. The rain
poured down in torrents, and the great
tops of the pine trees bent and writhed
in the terrible gusts, which became more
and more frequent. The river, always
rapid and strong, was now fierce, tur-
bulent stream, whose middle current
could C, oss in safety.
At last Tom burst into the MILL
'It's of no use," he exclaimed. "We've
got to stay here or swim home. went
clear to the main road, more than five
miles from here, and found that the
horses have turned the wrong way, in
stead of going home. If they had gone
straight back the men would have known
that something had happened and come
for us, but there is no chance for that
now"
At this Harry aud Jack began to cry,
and even Mrs. Allen looked dismayed.
Staying here tonight is out of the
question:" said Mr.. Allen. 1--WE must
get home somehow. We haven't a
morsel to eat, and every hour we stay
makes it worse We're in for long
storm, and the roads half the way from
here to the turnpike will be under water
within twelve hours"
"What shall we do then" asked Tom,
who was holding his dripping coat before
the blaze.
Mr.. Allen shook his head.
eff it was fair weather l should know
what to do quick enough, and l don't
know but we shall be obliged to come to
it anyway"
"Why, what do you mean, father
asked Mrs. Allen, anxiously.
He pointed to the river.
Il should take the single raft lying
there by the landing. 1t is staunch
and strong, and just as safe as any boat
that ever hoated on the st. John river"
Mrs. Allen had all a woman's dread
of water, and her heart sank at once.
But the idea of being compelled to re-
maia for two or three days in that DESC
late spot, without food or a chance to
sleep, was more dreadful yet, and she
felt almost like urging her husband to
carry out the deperate idea he had an
"We've got to decide upon something
pretty quick" continued the farmer,
'1t'll be dark in an hour, and we shall
have no choice"
He went to the window and looked
out for a moment at the river. Then
he came back to the stove again.
at storms fearfully said he; "but then
we're pretty nigh as wet as we can be
now. | believe we can keep in-shore
without mnch trouble, and at the rate
the stream is running now we should
reach Woodstock in less than an hour.
/ have come it in worse weather than