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 in the trees where they had sought shelter.

The rain ceased falling, but the wind did not go down, rolling the waves
over their raft. Once they lodged for a moment against a great oak where
Crescimir strove in vain to make fast. The tide was too powerful and all
went with it whirling blindly onward.

[Illustration: Scroll]

[Illustration: Scroll]




III.


The waters fell almost as rapidly as they had risen, and by sunrise on
Christmas Day, the river had returned between its banks, though still
flowing fast and frothy.

Mists lay in strata along the hills showing the green grass between in
long, even stripes. Up from the high mesas sprang the larks ready to
greet the day, or perching for a moment on some sturdy manzanita they