CHAPTER VIII.

THE DAWN OF THE SCOUTS’ DAY.

“Oh! did you ever see such a sight as that?” cried Tip Lange, after they had presently turned into the section that lay back of Lawrence.

No wonder the boy was amazed and almost terrified. It was a spectacle calculated to make any one rub eyes, and wonder whether it was not all a dream.

All his life Tip Lange, living in the town of Lawrence, had been accustomed to seeing that broad and fertile valley green with growing crops and grass and trees in the summer, or covered with a white mantle of snow when the season changed. But now it lay there a tremendous inland sea, water everywhere, with bunches of trees, or it might be farmhouses and barns, visible in various quarters.

Fences were mostly far under the surface. Some people were paddling around on hastily constructed rafts, and trying desperately to save a small portion of their personal property. A few boats were also in evidence, but these seemed to be leaky, and of little value so far as doing the work of rescue went.

“Why, it must be all of two miles across from hill to hill!” declared Billy, as he stared in awe at the wonderful sight, and began to realize more than ever the majesty of such an amazing flood, backing up into the valleys, and inundating a thousand homes and farms.

“Those who were wise got to the hills long ago, I reckon,” Monkey Stallings ventured to say, as they began to push along swiftly through this inland sea.

“And let’s hope that covers most of the people living in the valley,” Hugh added. “There are always some who will not believe things can be as bad as they seem to their neighbors; or who hate to leave their property so much that they take the risk of staying. Those are the kind we’ve got to find and help.”

“I only hope we can do it all before night comes along,” said Tip, “because if the water keeps on rising it will be a terrible night for anybody stranded in a farmhouse, with the rain beating down, and mebbe the wind blowing great guns, for they say there’s another furious storm headed this way, you know.”

“What shall we do first, Hugh?” asked Billy.

“I’m depending on you fellows to use your eyes and tell me if you can see a white flag of distress waving in any direction,” the pilot replied. “It would seem that if people wanted to be taken off they’d have the sense to rig up some sort of a signal of distress.”

“Why, over there, those people in that boat are waving to us now!” cried Monkey Stallings. “They seem to be baling out at a crazy rate, and I guess the old ship is threatening to sink under ’em.”

Hugh instantly changed his course, and headed for the foundering boat. Those who were aboard the craft did not cease their efforts to keep afloat, and doubtless watched the approaching launch with anxious eyes.

Fortunately there was no catastrophe, and in good time the scouts had the chance to rescue them. It turned out that they were an old couple, badly frightened when one of their oars broke, and they found that the leaking boat threatened to go down with them, far from land.

They had quite a quantity of stuff aboard, and seemed to set such store by it that the boys could not refuse to save it. Already the boat was filling with water since no further effort was being made to keep it down; and before long it would be almost level with the gunwale, when it might drift about in that condition.

Hugh decided that it would be a waste of time to try and land the fugitives of the flood as fast as they were rescued. They could be kept aboard until their number had increased to a respectable figure, when the run to the nearest shore would be undertaken.

Hardly had they again started on than Tip gave notice that he had sighted another signal of distress.

“I wish I had marine glasses along,” he said, after directing Hugh how to point the boat’s nose, “then I could tell what that means. Seems to me somebody must be swimming, and waving a handkerchief or something.”

“No, I think you’re wrong there, Tip,” Billy observed, after he had stared intently at the object ahead, while Monkey Stallings continued to wave a piece of white cloth he had picked up, so as to assure the imperiled ones their signal had been seen. “They don’t seem to be moving at all. P’raps they’re sitting on some sort of raft, low down near the surface of the water.”

As the launch was making pretty good time, of course the scouts rapidly approached closer to the object of their curiosity. Many were the guesses they continued to make in trying to solve the mystery.

Finally it was determined that those they were drawing near must be standing on some rock or mound, for there was no sign of a farmhouse near them.

This proved to be the actual case. There were seven in the party, a man, his wife, and five children. They had started to wade from their farmhouse to the hills, thinking it could be done; but the water kept on getting deeper and deeper until they became frightened and dared proceed no further.

When they turned to go back, the sight of all that wide sweep of agitated water appalled them; so they had clung to the little rise of ground they had accidentally struck, hoping and praying that some boat or raft would come to their assistance.

They were a thankful crowd when the scouts managed to get them all aboard; and a dripping one into the bargain.

“We’ve just _got_ to get ashore now, Hugh,” remarked Billy, after the last of the seven had been helped into the launch, this being the father of the family.

“Yes, they’re shivering as it is, and will soon take severe colds in this raw air,” decided the pilot of the expedition, as he started the engine, and headed straight toward a point which he had already picked out as the best place for the fugitives to be landed.

“We’ll see to it that they have a jolly big fire going before we leave them,” Billy continued; for he was very fond of a fire himself, and believed that it was likely to be a solid comfort to shipwrecked people.

“That’s a good idea,” commented the patrol leader, who knew he could leave all that sort of things to his chum, for Billy was a great hand to look out for the material side of things.

As they drew nearer the point they found that there were already people there, who may have reached there by wading through the water when it was not so high; or else by boat or raft. At any rate there seemed to be quite a number of them, watching the approach of the launch with the intense interest that forlorn fugitives, chased out of their homes by a flood, always show in newcomers.

“And think of them not even having the sense to get a roaring fire going,” remarked Billy, “with all that good fuel around them, too! Well, some folks hardly know enough to come in out of the rain. If this scout business is doing one thing for the boys of America, it’s teaching them to use their brains and do things. The next generation isn’t going to be near as helpless as this one.”

“There’s a log leading out into the water, Hugh!” cried Monkey Stallings. “You wouldn’t want to ask for a better place to run alongside. We can get our cargo over the side in great shape.”

Apparently Hugh thought likewise, for he at once aimed to draw up by the log. It proved all that the Stallings boy had prophesied, and as some of the scouts began to assist their passengers ashore the load was soon lightened.

Then while Tip and Hugh and Monkey began to carry the bundles with them, Billy cast around for a suitable place in which to build the fire he contemplated starting. Undoubtedly those hapless people would have good cause to remember the khaki of a scout with feelings of gratitude; and in the future it was going to be reckoned a badge of honor indeed for any fellow around Lawrence to be wearing such a suit.

Billy exercised his knowledge of such things to start his blaze in a place where it would burn best with that wind prevailing. He interested some of the children in the task of dragging plenty of fuel forward, so that in a very short time he had a jolly blaze leaping upward.

It was wonderful what a difference that fire made in the feelings of those stranded people. Why, with the coming of its genial warmth and glow, the look of woful anxiety began to leave their faces. They gathered around, held out their hands to the fire, and even started talking hopefully concerning the future.

Those who had been standing in the water up to their waists, and whom the cool air had caused to shiver, now began to steam as they sat to the leeward of the fire, regardless of what smoke blew in their faces, so long as they could feel comfortable again.

Billy was not yet satisfied. It might start raining at any time, and unless some sort of temporary shelter were provided, these people would soon be wet to the skin.

Accordingly he showed the men how a scout would make a shelter out of boughs if he found himself overtaken by night in the woods. While this might not answer as well as a tent, at the same time, if properly made, it would shed most of the rain, and with the aid of the fire tend to keep them fairly comfortable until they knew what next to do.

Help would of course come from the good people who happened to live on the higher ground, and who might be depended on to see to it that these unfortunates at least did not starve. When the raging waters went down, and the river shrank back into its normal bed, they would once more take up the task of trying to restore their ruined homes in the great level valley, once so prosperous.

Much as the scouts would have liked to have stayed longer, so as to help still further, they felt that they owed it to other victims of the flood that they get busy again. These were only a small fraction of the valley sufferers, and could not expect to monopolize the time of those who had the launch, possibly the only power boat in all that vicinity.

From the way in which Hugh started off, Billy Worth determined that he must have some settled plan in his mind, although nothing had been spoken with regard to it.

He looked beyond the boat’s bow, and while far away he could see what seemed to be farm buildings, nothing in the way of a fluttering signal of distress caught his eye.

“Still Hugh knows what he’s doing, never fear,” Billy told himself, because he had had many a practical demonstration along these lines, and felt unlimited confidence in his superior.

His curiosity continued to grow the closer they came to the abandoned farm buildings, until finally Billy could hold in no longer.

“Hugh,” he said, “you’re meaning to do something, I take it, at that place, because you’ve headed straight this way from the time we left shore; but look as hard as I can I’ve failed to see a sign of life about the farmhouse.”

Hugh smiled, because he had been anticipating some such remark, having noticed the uneasy movements and puzzled looks of his chum.

“That’s where one of the men ashore lives,” he started to explain. “He was speaking to me about it, and begged me as a favor to come out here right away on an errand of mercy. They were away from home when the flood came, you see, and couldn’t get back here to do anything.”

“What does he want you to do for him? Was there any one left at home? Does he expect us to salvage some of his best furniture and clothes for him, Hugh?”

“Neither one nor the other, Billy. The fact of the matter is he wants me to do something to save a pair of valuable work horses that are shut up in the lower part of his stable, where they may drown there in their stalls if the flood rises a couple of feet more!”