drawn himself with his charge upon the roof, the flood had reached the upper sashes.
The cabin swayed to and fro and every moment seemed about to be carried from its foundations. The Christchild made no sound of fear and Crescimir could not see his face, yet he held the long hemlock branch tightly in his little hand.
The roof was firmly built of logs and planks so in case the house fell it could be used as a raft and Crescimir exerting all his strength pulled from the sides the flat boards which held it fixed to the cabin.
As the flood rose higher, he took the Christchild and lying down in the middle of the roof held on firmly.
Suddenly the roof was lifted and whirled down the swollen arroyo into the broad river. Floating logs struck against it, and as they tore along under the bridge they struck against the buttress with terrific force. Onward they were whirled; they could see the lights in the houses of the village and could hear the voices of men and women along the bluffs or i