LEFT IN CHARGE. AS

“Bush fi soon, you bet—all bound blazey pletty soon,” observed John calmly ; then
with some more excitement in his voice he added, “my house next.”

Yes, John was right. , As I looked I saw all who could stagger leaving the burning
house and come over towards us. :

“Oh, John, what shall we do?” ;

“Nothing, missy, excepting you can say your players while I take smokee.”

"John was right, although it seemed horrible to see him sit down so quietly and begin to

prepare his opium while this awful danger was so near; but his advice was good, so I knelt
down by his bed and began to pray to God
that I would not see them when they

Five minutes passed away ~

to save us, shutting my eyes so

  
 
 
 

broke in.

without anything hap-
pening excepting that strange far-off roaring
sound coming nearer which I had heard be-

fore. ,What were they doing? I rose once

more and peeped out
only the place where it
eight insensible black
ground, and the smoke

at the house, to see
had stood, with six or
fellows lying on the
curling upwards. The
the forest side and

roaring: sound was from
coming nearer. Creeping over to
the door I again looked through the joints
towards the  river-bed,
road. Then I knew what
the black fellows had left’ :

“John, we are saved—the : Fin floods are coming.”

- There it was, a great rolling wave rushing down the dried watercourse and overflowing
its banks in every direction, coming straight down upon us, for the hut stood on a low

level, and leaving a perfect sea behind it. The wet weather had begun up country, and

  
  

which was as dry as a
the roaring meant, and why
us alone.

would soon be with us.

“ Quick, missy, jumpy, upon the bed,” cried John, and in another moment we were
both standing holding on to the shaking rafters with the water rushing in upon all sides
through the crevices as the wave passed by with a shiver and the noise of thunder.

Five hours afterwards we were found by the men, who had seen the smoke, and that
night father, Aunt Sarah, and Tarra joined us at the woolshed, our only house left ; but, as
father said, “ what use heeding about a house or two so long as his Peggy was all right,” for
he had been most anxious all the drive back. Tarra had run the whole way to Dinilequin
with his message, and now lay contentedly with his nose almost in the fireplace, and even
Aunt Sarah forgot to grumble at her failure to secure servants, for the wet weather had at

last come, which meant peace and plenty to the Riverina.