"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.

CHAPTER XXIX

TELLS ABOUT HOW WE LOOKED INTO THE PIT

I never saw anything like that before and it--it didn't exactly scare me--but it made me feel sort of funny. It gave me the creeps to see right in front of me like that, how lakes and valleys and all the land could be changed and me standing there watching it. It seemed as if the earth was being made all over again, as you might say.

"That's where we came through only a little while ago," I said, "how will it be inside where the lake was--is?"

Especially it seemed queer like, because it was getting dark fast and the sound of the water rushing and the sky all black made everything seem awful gloomy.

"Is Temple Camp all right, do you suppose?" I asked Bert.

"Guess so," he said, "that's over on the south sh.o.r.e. But hanged if I know how we're going to get there or anywhere else. Guess we'll just have to stand here like the Statue of Liberty."

I said, "Listen to the water."

"It isn't so high in the valley," Bert said; "it must have been worse a couple of hours ago." Then all of a sudden he said.

"Shh--listen!"

"I hear it," I said.

"No, not the water," he said; "listen. Do you hear a sound like groaning?"

I listened, and as sure as I was standing there, I heard a low sound, as if someone was groaning far away.

"That isn't the water, is it?" Bert asked

"Sure it isn't," I told him, "and it isn't from up through Nick's Valley, because, look, the wind is blowing from us that way."

I held up my scout scarf to show him how it blew toward the valley. And again we heard the groans, long and low, sort of.

"It's somewhere right around here," Bert said; then all of a sudden he said, "Look!"

Just in back of us, not more than twenty or thirty feet off, was the pit I could see it plain, because the stone work came up a couple of feet or so above the ground. Right close to it was a canoe all smashed in. I could see now that a couple of hours or so earlier, the water must have poured through there when it first overflowed the creek.

We listened again and could hear the groaning plain.

"I don't know who it is," Bert said, "but that's the Gold Dust Twins'

canoe. Come on."

We plodded over through the mud and water to the pit and looked over the edge. It was pretty dark down there, but I could see that there was only a little water in the bottom of it--not much more than before.

"That's funny," Bert said; "it must have overflowed in there when it first splashed down into the creek bed."

He felt in his pocket and took out a flashlight and held it down the hole, but it was wet and wouldn't light.

"Look down at the bottom, over at the left side," he said; "do you see something?"

At first it looked like a bundle all covered with mud. Then I saw something white on it. It was a face. It didn't budge, just lay there; and it seemed awful white on account of the bottom being almost dark.

"It's Skinny," Bert said, in a kind of whisper.

I just said, "Yes."

I couldn't say anything more, because I was all trembling.

CHAPTER x.x.x

TELLS ABOUT HOW TIGERS LEAP

Of course, we didn't stop to think about it then, but I knew that when the water first came rushing through Nick's Valley, it must have been dashed right into the pit. There was Skinny's body to prove it.

Afterward, when it got flowing into the creek bottom and spreading out over the fields below, I could see how it wouldn't flow into that hole.

But you can see for yourself, if you look at the map, that in the first rush it _must_ have done that. Gee, I'm no civil engineer, but anyway, I could see that. Anyway, we didn't stop to think about that, or the canoe either, but only just Skinny.

"See if the paddle's anywhere around," Bert said. His voice was awful funny--sharp kind of, as if he meant business.