DRi and I | Page 9

Irving Bacheller
was hurtling and pirouetting in the air above them.
The tower of green looked now like a great flaring bucket hooped with
fire and overflowing with darkness. Our ears were full of a mighty
voice out of the heavens. A wind came roaring down some tideway of
the air like water in a flume. It seemed to tap the sky. Before I could
gather my thoughts we were in a torrent of rushing air, and the raft had
begun to heave and toss. I felt D'ri take my hand in his. I could just see
his face, for the morning had turned dark suddenly. His lips were
moving, but I could hear nothing he said. Then he lay flat, pulling me
down. Above and around were all the noises that ever came to the ear
of man--the beating of drums, the bellowing of cattle, the crash of
falling trees, the shriek of women, the rattle of machinery, the roar of
waters, the crack of rifles, the blowing of trumpets, the braying of asses,
and sounds the like of which I have never heard and pray God I may
not hear again, one and then another dominating the mighty chorus.
Behind us, in the gloom, I could see, or thought I could see, the reeling

mass of green ploughing the water, like a ship with chains of gold
flashing over bulwarks of fire. In a moment something happened of
which I have never had any definite notion. I felt the strong arm of D'ri
clasping me tightly. I heard the thump and roll and rattle of the logs
heaping above us; I felt the water washing over me; but I could see
nothing. I knew the raft had doubled; it would fall and grind our bones:
but I made no effort to save myself. And thinking how helpless I felt is
the last I remember of the great windfall of June 3, 1810, the path of
which may be seen now, fifty years after that memorable day, and I
suppose it will be visible long after my bones have crumbled. I thought
I had been sleeping when I came to; at least, I had dreamed. I was in
some place where it was dark and still. I could hear nothing but the drip
of water; I could feel the arm of D'ri about me, and I called to him, and
then I felt him stir.
"Thet you, Ray?" said he, lifting his head.
"Yes," I answered. "Where are we?"
"Judas Priest! I ain' no idee. Jes' woke up. Been a-layin' here tryin' t'
think. Ye hurt?"
"Guess not," said I.
"Ain't ye got no pains or aches nowhere 'n yer body?"
"Head aches a little," said I.
He rose to his elbow, and made a light with his flint and tinder, and
looked at me.
"Got a goose-egg on yer for'ard," said he, and then I saw there was
blood on his face.
"Ef it hed n't been fer the withes they 'd 'a' ground us t' powder."
We were lying alongside the little house, and the logs were leaning to it
above us.

"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" D'ri exclaimed, rising to his knees. "'S whut I
call a twister."
He began to whittle a piece of the splintered platform. Then he lit a
shaving.
"They 's ground here," said he, as he began to kindle a fire, "ground
a-plenty right under us."
The firelight gave us a good look at our cave under the logs. It was
about ten feet long and probably half as high. The logs had crashed
through the side of the house in one or two places, and its roof was a
wreck.
"Hungry?" said D'ri, as he broke a piece of board on his knee.
"Yes," I answered.
"So 'm I," said he, "hungrier 'n a she-wolf. They 's some bread 'n'
ven'son there 'n the house; we better try t' git 'em."
An opening under the logs let me around the house corner to its door. I
was able to work my way through the latter, although it was choked
with heavy timbers. Inside I could hear the wash of the river, and
through its shattered window on the farther wall I could see between
the heaped logs a glow of sunlit water. I handed our axe through a
break in the wall, and then D'ri cut away some of the baseboards and
joined me. We had our meal cooking in a few minutes--our dinner,
really, for D'ri said it was near noon. Having eaten, we crawled out of
the window, and then D'ri began to pry the logs apart.
"Ain't much 'fraid o' their tumblin' on us," said he. "They 're withed so
they 'll stick together."
We got to another cave under the logs, at
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