arried us
towards these branches, which for us were so many reefs. Around the raft
floated various kinds of remains, pieces of wood, empty barrels, bundles
of grass; the river was bearing along the ruins it had made in its anger.

To the left we perceived the lights of Dourgues--flashes of lanterns
moving about in the darkness. The water could not have risen as high as
the village; only the low land had been submerged. No doubt assistance
would come. We searched the patches of light hanging over the water; it
seemed to us at every instant that we heard the sound of oars.

We had started at random. As soon as the raft was in the middle of the
current, lost amidst the whirlpools of the river, anguish of mind overtook
us again; we almost regretted having left the farm. I sometimes turned
round and gazed at the house, which still remained standing, presenting a
grey aspect on the white water. Babet, crouching down in the centre of the
raft, in the thatch of the roof, was holding little Marie on her knees,
the child's head against her breast, to hide the horror of the river from
her. Both were bent double, leaning forward in an embrace, as if reduced
in stature by fear. Jacques, standing upright in the front, was leaning on
his pole with all his weight; from time to time he cast a rapid glance
towards us, and then silently resumed his task. I seconded him as well as
I could, but our efforts to reach the bank remained fruitless. Little by
little, notwithstanding our poles, which we buried into the mud until we
nearly broke them, we drifted into the open; a force that seemed to come
from the depths of the water drove us away. The Durance was slowly taking
possession of us.

Struggling, bathed in perspiration, we had worked ourselves into a
passion; we were fighting with the river as with a living being, seeking
to vanquish, wound, kill it. It strained us in its giant-like arms, and
our poles in our hands became weapons which we thrust into its breast. It
roared, flung its slaver into our faces, wriggled beneath our strokes. We
resisted its victory with clenched teeth. We would not be conquered. And
we had mad impulses to fell the monster, to calm it with blows from our
fists.

We went slowly towards the offing. We were already at the entrance to the
oak-tree walk. The dark branches pierced through the water, which they
tore with a lamentable sound. Death, perhaps, awaited us there in a
collision. I cried out to Jacques to f