high-water mark- 第2部分

rather　live　near　the　bay　than　the　river；　whose　banks　might　overflow

at　any　time。　　But　was　it　the　tide？　　So　she　ran　again　to　the　back

door；　and　threw　out　a　stick　of　wood。　　It　drifted　away　toward　the

bay。　　She　scooped　up　some　of　the　water　and　put　it　eagerly　to　her

lips。　　It　was　fresh　and　sweet。　　It　was　the　river；　and　not　the　tide！



It　was　thenO　God　be　praised　for　his　goodness！　she　did　neither

faint　nor　fall；　it　was　thenblessed　be　the　Saviour；　for　it　was　his

merciful　hand　that　touched　and　strengthened　her　in　this　awful

momentthat　fear　dropped　from　her　like　a　garment；　and　her

trembling　ceased。　　It　was　then　and　thereafter　that　she　never　lost

her　self…command；　through　all　the　trials　of　that　gloomy　night。



She　drew　the　bedstead　toward　the　middle　of　the　room；　and　placed　a

table　upon　it　and　on　that　she　put　the　cradle。　　The　water　on　the

floor　was　already　over　her　ankles；　and　the　house　once　or　twice

moved　so　perceptibly；　and　seemed　to　be　racked　so；　that　the　closet

doors　all　flew　open。　　Then　she　heard　the　same　rasping　and　thumping

against　the　wall；　and；　looking　out；　saw　that　a　large　uprooted　tree；

which　had　lain　near　the　road　at　the　upper　end　of　the　pasture；　had

floated　down　to　the　house。　　Luckily　its　long　roots　dragged　in　the

soil　and　kept　it　from　moving　as　rapidly　as　the　current；　for　had　it

struck　the　house　in　its　full　career；　even　the　strong　nails　and

bolts　in　the　piles　could　not　have　withstood　the　shock。　　The　hound

had　leaped　upon　its　knotty　surface；　and　crouched　near　the　roots

shivering　and　whining。　　A　ray　of　hope　flashed　across　her　mind。　　She

drew　a　heavy　blanket　from　the　bed；　and；　wrapping　it　about　the　babe；

waded　in　the　deepening　waters　to　the　door。　　As　the　tree　swung

again；　broadside　on；　making　the　little　cabin　creak　and　tremble；　she

leaped　on　to　its　trunk。　　By　God's　mercy　she　succeeded　in　obtaining

a　footing　on　its　slippery　surface；　and；　twining　an　arm　about　its

roots；　she　held　in　the　other　her　moaning　child。　　Then　something

cracked　near　the　front　porch；　and　the　whole　front　of　the　house　she

had　just　quitted　fell　forwardjust　as　cattle　fall　on　their　knees

before　they　lie　downand　at　the　same　moment　the　great　redwood　tree

swung　round　and　drifted　away　with　its　living　cargo　into　the　black

night。



For　all　the　excitement　and　danger；　for　all　her　soothing　of　her

crying　babe；　for　all　the　whistling　of　the　wind；　for　all　the

uncertainty　of　her　situation；　she　still　turned　to　look　at　the

deserted　and　water…swept　cabin。　　She　remembered　even　then；　and　she

wonders　how　foolish　she　was　to　think　of　it　at　that　time；　that　she

wished　she　had　put　on　another　dress　and　the　baby's　best　clothes；

and　she　kept　praying　that　the　house　would　be　spared　so　that　he；

when　he　returned；　would　have　something　to　come　to；　and　it　wouldn't

be　quite　so　desolate；　andhow　could　he　ever　know　what　had　become

of　her　and　baby？　　And　at　the　thought　she　grew　sick　and　faint。　　But

she　had　something　else　to　do　besides　worrying；　for　whenever　the

long　roots　of　her　ark　struck　an　obstacle；　the　whole　trunk　made　half

a　revolution；　and　twice　dipped　her　in　the　black　water。　　The　hound；

who　kept　distracting　her　by　running　up　and　down　the　tree　and

howling；　at　last　fell　off　at　one　of　these　collisions。　　He　swam　for

some　time　beside　her；　and　she　tried　to　get　the　poor　beast　up　on　the

tree；　but　he　〃acted　silly〃　and　wild；　and　at　last　she　lost　sight　of

him　forever。　　Then　she　and　her　baby　were　left　alone。　　The　light

which　had　burned　for　a　few　minutes　in　the　deserted　cabin　was

quenched　suddenly。　　She　could　not　then　tell　whither　she　was

drifting。　　The　outline　of　the　white　dunes　on　the　peninsula　showed

dimly　ahead；　and　she　judged　the　tree　was　moving　in　a　line　with　the

river。　　It　must　be　about　slack　water；　and　she　had　probably　reached

the　eddy　formed　by　the　confluence　of　the　tide　and　the　overflowing

waters　of　the　river。　　Unless　the　tide　fell　soon；　there　was　present

danger　of　her　drifting　to　its　channel；　and　being　carried　out　to　sea

or　crushed　in　the　floating　drift。　　That　peril　averted；　if　she　were

carried　out　on　the　ebb　toward　the　bay；　she　might　hope　to　strike　one

of　the　wooded　promontories　of　the　peninsula；　and　rest　till

daylight。　　Sometimes　she　thought　she　heard　voices　and　shouts　from

the　river；　and　the　bellowing　of　cattle　and　bleating　of　sheep。　　Then

again　it　was　only　the　ringing　in　her　ears　and　throbbing　of　her

heart。　　She　found　at　about　this　time　that　she　was　so　chilled　and

stiffened　in　her　cramped　position　that　she　could　scarcely　move；　and

the　baby　cried　so　when　she　put　it　to　her　breast　that　she　noticed

the　milk　refused　to　flow；　and　she　was　so　frightened　at　that；　that

she　put　her　head　under　her　shawl；　and　for　the　first　time　cried

bitterly。



When　she　raised　her　head　again；　the　boom　of　the　surf　was　behind

her；　and　she　knew　that　her　ark　had　again　swung　round。　　She　dipped

up　the　water　to　cool　her　parched　throat；　and　found　that　it　was　salt

as　her　tears。　　There　was　a　relief；　though；　for　by　this　sign　she

knew　that　she　was　drifting　with　the　tide。　　It　was　then　the　wind

went　down；　and　the　great　and　awful　silence　oppressed　her。　　There

was　scarcely　a　ripple　against　the　furrowed　sides　of　the　great　trunk

on　which　she　rested；　and　around　her　all　was　black　gloom　and　quiet。

She　spoke　to　the　baby　just　to　hear　herself　speak；　and　to　know　that

she　had　not　lost　her　voice。　　She　thought　thenit　was　queer；　but

she　could　not　help　thinking　ithow　awful　must　have　been　the　night

when　the　great　ship　swung　over　the　Asiatic　peak；　and　the　sounds　of

creation　were　blotted　out　from　the　world。　　She　thought；　too；　of

mariners　clinging　to　spars；　and　of　poor　women　who　were　lashed　to

rafts；　and　beaten　to　death　by　the　cruel　sea。　　She　tried　to　thank

God　that　she　was　thus　spared；　and　lifted　her　eyes　from　the　baby；

who　had　fallen　into　a　fretful　sleep。　　Suddenly；　away　to　the

southward；　a　great　light　lifted　itself　out　of　the　gloom；　and

flashed　and　flickered；　and　flickered　and　flashed　again。　　Her　heart

fluttered　quickly　against　the　baby's　cold　cheek。　　It　was　the

lighthouse　at　the　entrance　of　the　bay。　　As　she　was　yet　wondering；

the　tree　suddenly　rolled　a　little；　dragged　a　little；　and　then

seemed　to　lie　quiet　and　still。　　She　put　out　her　hand　and　the

current　gurgled　against　it。　　The　tree　was　aground；　and；　by　the

position　of　the　light　and　the　noise　of　the　surf；　aground　upon　the

Dedlow　Marsh。



Had　it　not　been　for　her　baby；　who　was　ailing　and　croupy；　had　it　not

been　for　the　sudden　drying　up　of　that　sensitive　fountain；　she　would

have　felt　safe　and　relieved。　　Perhaps　it　was　this　which　tended　to

make　all　her　impressions　mournful　and　gloomy。　　As　the　tide　rapidly

fell；　a　great　flock　of　black　brent　fluttered　by　her；　screaming　and

crying。　　Then　the　plover　flew　up　and　piped　mournfully　as　they

wheeled　around　the　trunk；　and　at　last　fearlessly　lit　upon　it　like　a

gray　cloud。　　Then　the　heron　flew　over　and　around　her；　shrieking　and

protesting；　and　at　last　dropped　its　gaunt　legs　only　a　few　yards

from　her。　　But；　strangest　of　all；　a　pretty　white　bird；　larger　than

a　dovelike　a　pelican；　but　not　a　pelicancircled　around　and

around　her。　　At　last　it　lit　upon　a　rootlet　of　the　tree；　quite　over

her　shoulder。　　She　put　out　her　hand　and　stroked　its　beautiful　white

neck；　and　it　never　appeared　to　move。　　It　stayed　there　so　long　that

she　thought　she　would　lift　up　the　baby　to　see　it；　and　try　to

attract　her　attention。　　But　when　she　did　so；　the　child　was　so

chilled　and　cold；　and　had　such　a　blue　look　under　the　little　lashes

which　it　didn't　raise　at　all；　that　she　screamed　aloud；　and　the　bird

flew　away；　and　she　fainted。



Well；　that　was　the　worst　of　it；　and　perhaps　it　was　not　so　much；

after　all；　to　any　but　herself。　　For　when　she　recovered　her　senses

it　was　bright　sunlight；　and　dead　low　water。　　There　was　a　confused

noise　of　guttural　voices　about　her；　and　an　old　squaw；　singing　an

Indian　〃hushaby；〃　and　rocking　herself　from　side　to　side　before　a

fire　built　on　the　marsh；　before　which　she；　the　recovered　wife　and

mother；　lay　weak　and　weary。　　Her　first　thought　was　for　her　baby；

and　she　was　about　to　speak；　when　a　young　squaw；　who　must　have　been

a　mother　herself；　fathomed　her　thought　and　brought　her　the

〃mowitch；〃　pale　but　living；　in　such　a　queer　little　willow　cradle

all　bound　up；　just　like　the　squaw's　own　young　one；　that　she　laughed

and　cried　together；　and　the　young　squaw　and　the　old　squaw　showed

their　big　white　teeth　and　glinted　their　black　eyes　and　said；

〃Plenty　get　well；　skeena　mowitch；〃　〃wagee　man　come　plenty　soon；〃

and　she　could　have　kissed　their　brown　faces　in　her　joy。　　And　then

she　found　that　they　had　been　gathering　berries　on　the　marsh　in

their　queer；　comical　baskets；　and　saw　the　skirt　of　her　gown

fluttering　on　the　tree　from　afar；　and　the　old　squaw　couldn't　resist

the　temptation　of　procuring　a　new　garment；　and　came　down　and

discovered　the　〃wagee〃　woman　and　child。　　And　of　course　she　gave　the

garment　to　the　old　squaw；　as　you　may　imagine；　and　when　HE　came　at

last　and　rushed　up　to　her；　lo