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