mission premises for safety, preparatory to the desertion of houses,
which was expected to take place on the morrow. Goods of every
description were scattered about in wild confusion, for many of the
people were half mad with alarm. The missionary, with his assistants,
was doing his best to reduce the chaos to order.

Farther up the river Mr Ravenshaw encountered Herr Winklemann bearing a
huge arm-chair on his shoulders. "Mine hause is toomed!" he said.

"Doomed? I hope not. Where are you going with the chair?"

"To zee hause of old Liz."

Without waiting for a rejoinder the stout German hurried on, and was
soon lost to view among the bushes. Ravenshaw followed him shortly
afterwards, and found old Liz arranging and piling away the belongings
of Winklemann, who, after depositing the arm-chair by the side of the
fire opposite the corner occupied by Daddy, had returned to his doomed
house for more. Anxious to know in what condition his friend's house
was, the old gentleman took the road to it. The house of old Liz, as we
have said, stood high, and well back from the river. It had been made a
place of refuge by the nearest neighbours, and was not only filled but
surrounded by goods and furniture, as well as live stock. A dense mass
of willow bushes, by which the little hut was surrounded, completely
shut out the view all round, except backward, in the direction of the
prairie, so that Ravenshaw did not come in sight of the spot where the
flood had already commenced its work of destruction until he had
traversed a footpath for nearly a quarter of a mile. Many wet and weary
settlers passed him, however, with their possessions on their backs, and
here and there groups of women and children, to all of whom he gave a
cheering word of hope and encouragement.

On clearing the bushes the full extent of desolation was presented to
view. The river here had overflowed its banks, so that a large part of
the country wore the aspect of a lake. Knolls and slight eminences,
which in happier times had been scarcely observable, now stood boldly
out as conspicuous islets, while many farmhouses were either partly
submerged or stood on the margin of the rising waters which beat against
them. There was a strong current in some places, elsewhere it was calm;
but the river itself was clearly traceable by the turmoil of crashing
ice and surging water which marked its course. Men and women were seen
everywhere--in the water and o