dged that it was up to his arm pits, and that
had he stepped into any hole, he might have sunk with his head under
also.

"Ah, if it had not been for the black, I might have tried to cross, and
have lost my life," he thought.

After going up the creek some way, the black pointed to a spot where the
ground was very smooth and hard on either side.

"Dere, dere, cross now," he said, and made signs to Joseph to get up on
the horse.

"No, friend, a wetting won't do me any harm, and if the horse was to
stumble, with two on his back, it might be a bad job for you."

Joseph walked into the stream boldly, leading the horse. The water rose
up to his knees, then to his thighs. He kept his eyes up the stream on
the watch for any branches or trunks of trees which might be floating
down. Now by stopping, now by pushing on fast, he was able to avoid
several, others he turned aside. For some time the water was up to his
middle. The black pointed across the creek, and made signs that there
was nothing to fear. At last he reached the opposite bank. Scarcely
had he got out of the torrent, than the rain came down still harder than
before; the wind blew furiously, tearing off branches from the brittle
wood trees and sending them flying along before it. The thunder roared
and rattled with long continued peals from the sky, and the lightning
flashed more brightly than ever, darting, it seemed, from cloud to
cloud, and then went hissing along the ground like a number of fiery
serpents. The horse started and trembled, now sprang to one side, now
to the other, so that Joseph could scarcely keep the black man from
falling off. Still, like a true Briton, he pushed on. There was no use
looking for shelter, none was to be found nearer than his own hut.
Suddenly a flash darted from a cloud just overhead, and seemed to strike
the ground directly in front of Joseph. A moment before he had seen
clearly. He made a few steps forward expecting again to see his way,
but the bright light alone was in his eyes; nothing could he see. He
rubbed his hand over his face.

"Oh, I am blind," he cried out in his grief.

It was some time before the black could understand what had happened.
He uttered some expressions showing his sorrow, in his own tongue.
"Come, no fear, black fellow show way," he said at last, taking Joseph's
hand. Thus they journeyed on, Joseph holding on to the horse, and
Troloo guiding it.

The storm seemed to have spent i