In the confusion of rushing water, crashing trees, and crackling timber,
and the darkness which seemed to flow with the water and blot out the
fair valley, but little could be done to collect the scattered camp.
When the morning broke, the cabin of Stumpy, nearest the river-bank, was
gone. Higher up the gulch they found the body of its unlucky owner; but
the pride, the hope, the joy, The Luck, of Roaring Camp had disappeared.
They were returning with sad hearts when a shout from the bank recalled
them.

It was a relief-boat from down the river. They had picked up, they
said, a man and an infant, nearly exhausted, about two miles below. Did
anybody know them, and did they belong here?

It needed but a glance to show them Kentuck lying there, cruelly crushed
and bruised, but still holding The Luck of Roaring Camp in his arms. As
they bent over the strangely assorted pair, they saw that the child was
cold and pulseless. "He is dead," said one. Kentuck opened his eyes.
"Dead?" he repeated feebly. "Yes, my man, and you are dying too." A
smile lit the eyes of the expiring Kentuck. "Dying!" he repeated; "he's
a-taking me with him. Tell the boys I've got The Luck with me now;" and
the strong man, clinging to the frail babe as a drowning man is said to
cling to a straw, drifted away into the shadowy river that flows forever
to the unknown sea.




THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT