“The dam! The dam! The dam has broken!”

Shirley Willing, with flaming eyes and tightly-clenched hands, jumped quickly forward, and with her right hand seized the bridle of a horse that was bearing a strange boy along the road, which ran near the river.

The horse reared back on its haunches, frightened at the sudden halting.

“The dam!” cried the young girl again. “Quick! The people must be warned!”

The face of the rider turned white.

“What do you mean?” he shouted, fear stamped on every feature.

Shirley’s excitement fell from her like a cloak. She became quiet.

“The Darret dam has been washed away,” she answered, “and unless the people in the valley are warned immediately they will perish. There is one chance to save them. You are mounted. You can outrun the oncoming wall of water and save them. Away with you, quick! There is not a second to spare!”

“But,” protested the boy, “the water may overtake me and I shall drown. We can climb to higher ground here and be safe.”

He tried to turn his horse’s head to the east. But Shirley clung to the rein.

“And leave those people to drown, without warning?” she cried. “You coward! You are afraid!”

“I——” the boy began, but Shirley cut his protest short.

Releasing the bridle of the horse, she sprang quickly to the side of the animal, seized the rider by the leg with both her strong, young hands and pulled quickly and vigorously. Unprepared for such action, the boy came tumbling to the ground in a sprawling heap.

Quick as a flash Shirley leaped to the saddle and turned the horse’s head toward the valley. As she dug her heels into the animal’s ribs, sending him forward with a jump, she called over her shoulder to the boy, who sat still dazed at the sudden danger:

“Get to safety the best way you can, you coward!”

Under the firm touch of the girl’s hand on the rein the horse sped on down the valley.

It was a mad race with death and Shirley knew it. But she realized that human lives were at stake and she did not hesitate.

To the left of the road down which she sped lay high ground and safety, while coming down the valley, perhaps a mile in the rear, poured a dense wall of water, coming as swift as the wind.

For days the Mississippi and its tributaries had been rising rapidly and steadily. Along the lowlands in that part of the state of Illinois, just south of Cairo, where Shirley Willing had been visiting friends, fears that the Darret dam, three miles up one of these tributary streams, would give way, had been entertained.

Some families, therefore, had moved their perishable belongings to higher ground, where they would be beyond the sweep of the waters should the dam break.

Then suddenly, without warning, the dam had gone.

The home where Shirley had been visiting was a farmhouse, and the cry of danger had been received by telephone. Those in the house had been asked to repeat the warning to families further down the valley. But the fierce wind that was raging had, at almost that very moment, blown down all wires.

Shirley, in spite of the fact that she, with the others, could easily have reached the safety afforded by higher ground a short distance away, had thought only of those whose lives would be snuffed out if they were not warned.

She had decided that she would warn them herself. She ran from the house to the stable, where one single horse had been left.

But the seriousness of the situation seemed to have been carried to the animal, and when Shirley had attempted to slip a bridle over his head he struck out violently with his fore feet. As the girl sprang back, he dashed from the stable.

Shirley ran after him and followed him into the road. There she encountered a rider; and the conversation with which this story begins took place.

As the girl sped down the road, she could hear from far behind, the roar of the waters as they came tumbling after her.

A farmhouse came into sight. A man, a woman and several children came out, attracted by the galloping hoofbeats. Without checking the speed of her mount a single instant, Shirley guided the horse close to them.

“The dam! The dam!” she shouted, as she flashed by.

No other words were necessary. Without stopping to gather up any of their effects, they all turned their faces and rushed for higher ground.

A second, a third, and a fourth farmhouse came into view, and as she flashed by, the girl hurled her warning at each.

Half a mile below lay the little town of Stanley. It was for this that Shirley was headed, in her race with the rushing water.

The roar behind her became louder, and Shirley, leaning over her horse’s neck, urged him to further efforts with soft and coaxing words.

The noble animal, seeming to realize that he was upon a message of life or death, responded, and it seemed that he must have winged feet, so lightly and swiftly did he fly over the ground.

But the roaring wall of water came closer.

Shirley uttered a cry of relief. Before her she made out the first house in the little town. The sounds of the clattering hoofs on the hard macadamized road drew the residents from their homes. Several had gathered in a little knot as Shirley approached. Evidently they had not heard the sound of the roaring waters.

“The dam has gone!” cried the girl, as she came up to them, and rode by without checking the speed of her horse. “Fly for your lives!”

Instantly all became bustle and confusion. The word was passed like a flash and almost as one man the town poured from its homes and dashed for safety.

Clear through the town the young girl rode, calling out her warning. Then, and not until then, did she check her horse and turn his head toward the safety that lay in the east.

A man ran up to her.

“The Hendersons!” he cried. “They left here not five minutes ago in their buggy. The water will catch them on the road!”

Without a word, Shirley turned her horse and would have dashed forward had not the man caught the bridle.

“It’s death to you!” he cried.

“It’s death to them if I don’t make it!” cried Shirley.

She dug her heels into the animal’s flanks and the horse shook off the detaining hand with a quick twitch of his head. Evidently he, as well as the girl, realized his responsibility.

Once more, under the guiding hand, he dashed forward as if it were wings that carried him so lightly and swiftly over the ground. And as he flew on, Shirley patted him softly on the neck and spoke low words of encouragement.

The noble animal’s ears stood straight and there was fire in his eyes. He seemed to say: “We will save them if it is possible.”

Rounding a sudden turn in the road, Shirley made out a buggy going leisurely along. At the same moment the roar of the water came more plainly to her ears.

She raised her voice in a shout that rose above the sound of roaring water behind—rose above the sounds of clattering hoofs and above the voices of the occupants of the buggy themselves.

The buggy stopped, the man’s face peered out. As he saw Shirley dashing along the road after him, a sudden understanding of what was wrong came to him. Raising an arm, he waved it as a signal that the girl’s warning had been understood, and started his horse on a run.

Shirley breathed a great sigh of relief and dashed on after the buggy, which was now going at terrific speed, rocking crazily and threatening every moment to turn over in the road.

Coming suddenly to an open field at the left side of the road, the man sent the buggy dashing across it, and made, as fast as his horse could go, for a point where the ground rose sheer for perhaps a hundred feet.

Shirley sped after the buggy.

Coming to this abrupt rise, they were forced to search for a means of clambering up it. The woman in the buggy, at the man’s command, sprang from the seat and dashed hurriedly up the steep hill. The man in the meantime stopped to unhitch his horse, that the animal might have a chance for its life.

Turning in her saddle, Shirley cried out in sudden fear.

Behind, so close that it seemed to be right upon her and bearing down with tremendous speed, came a solid wall of water, many feet high.

With a cry to her horse, the girl turned his head squarely to the hill. With his nostrils extended and his eyes dilated with fear, the animal sprang at it. With his light burden he gained a foothold and dashed up as fast as his weary limbs could carry him. Once he came to a place that seemed too much for him; but the noble steed made a last desperate effort and succeeded in getting his forefeet on top of the level ground above.

With a single movement, Shirley flung herself from the saddle to the safety of the high ground, and in another moment seized the bridle of the horse, just as he would have slipped back into the raging flood that now swept by below.

Exerting her utmost strength—and it was by no means slight—she succeeded in helping the animal to scramble to the summit.

The occupants of the buggy had also succeeded in climbing to safety, but the second horse had been carried away by the sweeping waters. Henderson had been unable to loosen the animal, as he was forced to hurry to the support of Mrs. Henderson, who, almost in safety, had fainted and would have fallen back, had her husband’s arm not caught her.

From this refuge, the three watched the waters as they swirled by with tremendous force. Kicking animals, sheds, barns and small houses, together with ruins and dÉbris, swept past them, and more than once the young girl cried out in despair, as she realized the damage that had been done by the water.

The three had climbed to the very top of the hill, as the water surrounded them on all sides. Gradually it rose, climbing closer and closer to them. Shirley became alarmed and turned to Henderson, who stood near her, still supporting his wife.

“Will it come this high, do you think, Mr. Henderson?”

Henderson shook his head.

“There is no telling,” he replied quietly. “All we can do is to hope for the best.”

All became silent, but their eyes were riveted upon the water as it closed in on them.

Now there was but perhaps twenty yards of dry ground, then fifteen, and still the water rose. The rise continued until all stood in water, and then it rose no higher.

“Thank God!” said Henderson, calmly, looking at his wife. “We are saved!”

“Thank God, indeed,” said Shirley softly, and she turned and stroked the horse, who thrust his cold muzzle into her hand. “But for you,” she added, patting him gently, “hundreds would have been drowned!”