The Water Spout.

On a cold rainy day in the month of September, 1689, two emigrant wagons, each drawn by a pair of oxen, was seen passing along the old Kingston trail, on the east side of the Neversink, toward Peanpack. The day was far advanced, and the night was threatening. The women, children and furniture were concealed within a covered wagon. The drivers, with a hickory gad in their hands, were beside the oxen. And thus, over stump, log and stone, they trudged along. An opening is made in the cover, and a sweet, pretty face peeps out. Lewis, ain’t we most to Peanpack? I’m cold, tired and hungry, and Amy is quite sick. Get along, said Lewis, at the same time bringing the gad down on the oxen. Yes, replied he, we will soon be there, and if the pesky red-skins will let us alone we will have a good night’s rest. This was Lewis Powers with his wife and child en route for the far west in search of a home. Amy, their daughter, was a bright little girl, five years old. His wife was a model of a wife and mother, twenty-two years old, whilst Lewis was twenty-six, a strong, robust and healthy man. The next wagon contained William Wallace, wife and boy. Just as the sun was hiding itself behind the western hills, the party reached the Peanpack ford. This was passed safely, and, passing up the banks a few rods they encamped for the night. The wagon was unpacked, and out came a young Newfoundland dog and two white cats. A fire was built and in a short time the party sat down to supper. The party had left Connecticut eleven days before and had now reached within three days journey of their future home. Wallace’s boy’s name was Walter and he was six years old. The next morning they broke camp and the next night camped on the west side of the Mongaup. The next day brought them to Beaver Brook, and just after sunset of the third day they arrived on the banks of the Callicoon, or East Branch of the Fishkill (Delaware.) They selected a spot on the south side of the stream and went to work in earnest to clear a farm. Wallace located about half a mile up stream above Powers. In the course of a few days each of them had built a small, but comfortable log house. A confiding friendship was soon established between Walter and Amy, and the dog, Rolla, grew to be large and sagacious. Wallace’s house stood but a few rods below a large beaver dam that flowed over several hundred acres. They brought with them a large quantity of ammunition and traps. Otter and beaver were plenty in the streams and before the arrival of spring the two men had dried several hundred dollars worth of furs which they sold to the traders that went up and down the river in flat boats.

Thus, year after year passed. Nothing occurred to disturb the harmony of the settlers. Now and then a straggling Indian called, but never molested them. They were contented and prosperous. Amy was now ten and Walter twelve years old. The mothers of the children had taught them to read and write. Several acres of land had been cleared on each farm and log barns built. But now a misfortune that entirely changes the destiny of these families overtakes them. An unusual drouth had occurred. Little or no rain had fallen during the months of June and July. The heat was intense and almost unbearable.

Powers was dressing a deer that he had just shot in the river. Amy and Rolla were playing at the door and Mary was writing a letter to her Connecticut friends to send by the next trading party, when an unlooked-for clap of thunder broke upon them. Instantly a dark cloud is seen in the west. It was so dark and thick that it almost shut out the light of the sun. Then came a gust of wind which increased in its fury every moment. This was followed by a heavy rain. It fell in such torrents that in less than an hour the river began to rise and overflow the banks. Just then Walter Wallace came running in and said:

Father wants you to come and help him. There has been a water spout. The beaver dam is going out, and we will all be washed away.

Before Walter had finished his story, Powers was on his way to assist his neighbor. On arriving there, he was convinced that nothing could save them. The storm was raging in all its fury. Trees were torn up by their roots, and the air was filled with branches.

Save your wife and child, cried out Powers; get them on the raft. Wallace’s wife and Powers sprang to the raft. Wallace cried out to his son: Go into the house and get my gun. Walter sprang into the house and took down the gun. The crash came. The entire beaver dam had given away and the water and logs passed between him and the raft. Walter sprang on a fallen tree and escaped to high ground. Turning, he saw that the raft, with his father, mother and Powers had broken loose and was swiftly passing down the stream, surrounded by trees and logs. In a few moments the house shared the same fate. Thus, in an hour, what they had toiled for years to build up, was, in a moment, washed away.

Mary Powers, as soon as her husband left, went to the river bank. She was convinced from the appearance of the water spout that her own home would soon be washed away. The water was now running around the house and retreat to the higher ground was cut off. With the sagacity of a mother, she ordered Amy on the raft that was tied to a sapling on the river bank but a few feet from the door, and then hurriedly throwing a blanket over her shoulders, stepped on the raft. Rolla whined and barked, jumping out of the house and then in again, as if in search of something he did not like to leave behind. The white cat appeared and Rolla took her in his mouth and with a bound leaped on the raft. At that moment Wallace and his wife passed her.

Where is Powers? cried the anxious wife and mother. The incessant slash of the water prevented her from hearing, but Wallace’s finger pointed to the water.

Drowned! she cried. Amy, you have no father.

For over an hour the sapling held the raft, when a gigantic tree that had been washed from the banks, struck it, and they were hurled into the foam of that mad stream. One, and only one saw them start. Walter Wallace had reached a point of land opposite Power’s house, but could get no nearer. A few moments after the raft broke loose the house followed. As young as Walter was, he took in the situation, and realized the fact that he was not only an orphan, but that Amy and Mary must meet a watery grave. No boat could live in that wild stream. He had but one thing to console him—the dog and cat might swim ashore and find him. Then he gave vent to his pent up feelings and cried until he fell asleep, where we will leave him for the present.