Year: 1876

FAR AWAY in Queensland lay the
little town of Dramore-tOWn is a |
grand name to call it by, for in fact it
was little more than a Struggling vii |
lage, built partly on the banks of a
lagoon and partly on the bed of a
river, dried up so long that no one
ever remembered seeing any trace of
water there Dramore boasted of a
doctor, lawyer, police magistrate, a
bank, a newspaper Office, and a few
stores, where you could get almost
anything, from picked salmon to
artificial flowers; these were brought
up from the coast town on the bullock
drayS, which on their return journey
took down the wool from the neigh
boring sheep stations, and gold from
some gold reefs which lay not far off.
Even the grandest houses were of
very primitive kind. The doctors
house was a wooden cottage built on a
sort of a platform, a veranda all
around it. Behind stood smaller
cottage containing the servants room
and kitchen, while at one side was
another building, used by DR.. Gray as
his surgery, and where he also kept a
large stock of medicine, for in that
out-of-the-way place chemists were
not to be found. Inside, the cottage
was divided into four rooms; not
rooms with ceilings and walls, as we
have in England, but places open to
the extreme height of the brown
shingled roof, and only divided by
wooden partitions about eight feet
high. and something like the divisions
in a stable.


In one of these rooms, at the end of
hot summers day in 1877, lay little
Arthur and Harold Gray, safely tucked
in under the mosquito curtains, with
the glass doors thrown open to let i'll
every breath of air. Before going to
bed they had sat resting from play
with their mother on the veranda,
watching the sun set behind the blue
Camira Mountains, where the gold
reefs were, and where, long ago, the
river. whose now dry and graSS-grOWn
bed lay close beside them, must have
taken it's rise. The children slept, and
night fell, a calm, tropical night, with
a summer moon lighting up the blue
and red water-lilies on the still lagoon.


DR.. and Mrs. Gray were awakened
at midnight by little Arthur's voice.
mamma, mamma, there is water
coming in at the doorp'


"Nonsense, DEAR" replied the moth
er. $50 to sleep again as fast as you
can"


"But, mamma, l see it; it isn't
nonsense; and l can't go to sleep, be-
cause | hear noise like river far
away"


Mrs. Gray got up, meaning to soothe
her little boy, but on putting her feet
to the ground, was as much astonished
as Arthur to find the floor covered
with water. She awoke her husband
at once, but not moment too soon;
in five minutes the water was on
level with the beds, in ten minutes up
to the top of the table. Outside the
rain ratified on the roof, and the sound
of rushing water, the screaming OF
women and children, and the crash OF
falling buildings, told her that some
fearful disaster had happened. There
was no time to think what it was. DIR.
GRAY lifted his wife and children first
on the table, and then to the top of
the partition which divided the rooms.
There they sat on the cross-beams,
shivering in their night-dresses, poor
little Harold crying piteously at being
awakened out of his sleep; he was
but two years old, so he only under
stood that he was cold and sleepy.
His father put his arms round his
eldest boy, and Mrs. Gray kept Harold
nestled close to her side; and so they
sat for hours. Happily the doors and
windows having been left open, the
water found no resistance, and rushed
through at the rate of nine or ten


miles an hour, carrying with it chairs,
books, and such small things, and de-
stroying all the rest, but leaving the


house standing. Outside tioated a


stream of wreckage-a haystack, with


an old woman safe on the top, a


wooden cradle with baby, who was
found alive next day ssme miles down