CHAPTER XIII
LOOKING FOR MOTHER
"Look out!"
"Make for the boat!"
"Grab up the boy!"
"Lively, or it will be too late!"
Thus exclaiming, the rescuers made their hurried way toward the window,near which the boat was tied. Mr. Ringold had caught up Charlie House,as they had elected to call him, and, with the child in his arms, wasgiven the right of way--that is, the others stood aside, and let themanager get to the window first.
Luckily the turning of the house was slow, and by a chance swirl of thecurrent, the motor boat had been swung broadside to the window.
Also the tilting of the house was in the direction of that side wherewas the window by which they had entered, so that the upper part,corresponding to the sill, was nearer to the water, so they could moreeasily get over it, and into the _Clytie_.
In an instant Mr. Ringold had leaped into the boat and moved back out ofthe way, to make space for the others.
"Go ahead, boys!" cried Mr. Piper, as he stood to one side in the house,near the window, and waited for Blake and Joe.
"No, you go!" insisted Blake.
"Come on--don't argue! She's going to turn over again!" cried Mr.Ringold, and then the gloomy comedian fairly thrust, first Joe, and thenBlake, through the window, from which the sash had been broken. Themoving picture actor followed an instant later, and not a second toosoon.
"Cut the rope!" yelled the manager, who was holding Charlie. The boy wascrying again, probably from fright.
With one stroke of his keen-bladed knife, Blake severed the cable, andthe boat drifted away from the house.
And, no sooner was the craft free than, amid a great swirl of thewaters, the dwelling turned right-side up again, the furniture andkitchen utensils inside falling from ceiling to floor with a crash.
So big was the wave caused by this righting of the house that the_Clytie_ was nearly swamped. She bobbed about on the swell, and wentnearly over. But she was a well balanced craft, and, after a bit, rodeon an even keel once more.
"Narrow escape, that," said Mr. Ringold, solemnly, as he tried tocomfort Charlie. The little lad was sobbing:
"I wants my mamma, I does! I wants my mamma! I want to go home!"
"We'll take you home, and to your mamma, as soon as we can," promisedthe manager, soothingly. "But don't you want to sleep in this nice boat,to-night? And see, I'll make the choo-choo engine go for you. Won't thatbe nice?"
"Yes," answered Charlie, now, smiling through his tears.
The motor was set going, and, as the house drifted on down stream,upright once more, and freed from the sandbar on which it had stranded,the motor boat was steered toward the big oak tree, where she was to betied for the night.
Charlie House was so interested now, in the working of the machinery,and the various novel sights aboard the motor craft, that he forgot hisloneliness. Blake spread him some bread and jam, and this completed thetemporary happiness of the poor little waif.
Later he was given more supper, which he ate with a fine appetite,showing that he must have been without food for some time. There was aspare bunk on the _Clytie_, and Charlie, the traces of his tears washedaway, was soon sleeping comfortably in this.
"What are we going to do?" asked Blake, when the others sat in the smallcabin that night, talking over the situation.
"Well, we've got to try to locate his mother, of course," said Mr.Ringold. "I'll have a talk with him in the morning, and see if I can'tfind out from what town or city it was his house was carried away. Heought to know where he lived, even if he doesn't recall his own name.And that may come to him by daylight. We'll just let him sleep now, andget some ourselves."
"For we've got a lot of work ahead of us," commented C. C. Piper.
"Going to stand watch and watch to-night?" asked Blake.
"I don't see any need of it," answered Mr. Ringold. "We are out of theway of the main flood here, and, even if the river does rise, we'll beall right. I think we'll all go to bed."
The night was a rather restless one for all save Charlie House. Thelittle chap slept through it all, though about midnight the river beganto rise again, as those aboard the boat could tell by her motions. Butthey were moored with a long cable, and it would need a great lift toput them in danger.
"Did my mamma come?" asked Charlie, as soon as he opened his eyes in themorning.
"No, but she'll be here soon, I hope," said Blake, who was near the bunkof the small chap. Charlie's eyes filled with tears.
"Come on, and see me get breakfast," urged Joe, who was willing to dohis share in providing amusement for the little fellow. "I'll show youhow to make flap-jacks," he went on.
"What's flap-jacks?" asked Charlie, interested at once.
"Well, maybe your mamma calls them griddle-cakes--or pancakes," saidBlake.
"Oh, I love pancakes!" Charlie exclaimed, and the danger of a cryingspell was over, for the time being, at least.
With prepared flour, Joe mixed up a batter, and soon the cakes werebrowning on a greased griddle, on the gasoline stove. There was maplesyrup to eat on them, and with hot coffee for the older ones, there wasserved a meal anyone might have enjoyed.
"We're having it too easy," complained Blake, as he took a third helpingof cakes. "It seems as though, in a flood like this, we ought to beeating hard tack."
"Well, we may come to that yet," said Joe, with a sigh. And it was notlong after that when they recalled this talk, at a time when indeed theywould have given much for even some hard tack.
But matters were propitious enough now, and, after the morning meal, theboat was started off again on her now double quest.
"I think the best plan for us to follow," said Mr. Ringold, when theywere heading into the main river, "will be to stop at the first town wecome to, and make inquiries, both about our friends, and Charlie'smother. I'll question him and see if he knows where he used to live."
But Charlie's memory was either very faulty, or the events of the floodhad driven all recollection from his mind. All he could say was that helived "home" with his papa and mamma, and he wanted them both, though,for the time, he was willing to stay with his new friends, and watch the"choo-choo" engine.
"But what did your father do?" asked Blake, thinking they might get someclew, if they knew his occupation.
"He works," said Charlie, contentedly. "He works for mamma and me."
"And you don't know where you lived?" inquired C. C.
"I lived home," was all Charlie would say. "Then it rained, and mammaand papa took a lot of things out of our house, over to grandma's house.Grandma lives on a hill."
"They must have moved their valuables out when they saw the floodrising," commented Joe.
"What happened after that?" asked Blake.
"It rained," said Charlie, simply. "Mamma and papa took more things overto grandma's, and I went to sleep. When I woke up it was all dark, andmy bed was crooked. I guess I fell out of my bed," he added.
"That was when the house went upside-down, I guess he means," suggestedMr. Ringold. "I can imagine what happened," he went on, in a low tone,as the boy went to the after rail to watch the debris floating by. "Hisfolks began carrying out their valuables, and left him in the house.They made one trip too many, and the house was carried away, and upset.Charlie was in it, and he stayed in it until we rescued him. Now we'vejust got to trust to luck to find his folks."
They were fairly out on the flooded Mississippi again, and from themanner in which they were tossed about, and swirled this way and that,it could easily be guessed that the river had been augmented during thenight, and that more rain had fallen along the upper water-shed.
They stopped, about noon, at a small village, partly under water, and,while Joe and Blake made some pictures, Mr. Ringold and C. C. inquiredfor any word of the missing players, and for news of Charlie's folks. Tosend off any telegrams proved out of the question.
So many f
amilies had been separated, and so many mothers were lookingfor lost children, as well as children inquiring for missing parents,that no progress was made.
However, Charlie House seemed contented enough now, with his newfriends. He was much better off than in the upside-down house, for hewas comfortable and had enough to eat. He had been rescued only just intime, too, for he probably would have been killed, or at least severelyinjured, when the dwelling righted itself again.
The work of saving their belongings was being undertaken by many of thepeople of the village where our friends stopped, and scenes of this werefilmed by the moving picture boys. Work was also in progress on ahastily-constructed levee, in an endeavor to prevent the whole of thetown from being washed away.
Once more the rescue party was off. There was more danger now, as therewas still more debris coming down the big, muddy water, and severaltimes the boat was nearly struck by a floating house, or barn.
"We've got to keep a sharp lookout!" decided Mr. Ringold. "It won't doto be swamped--there'd be no getting ashore in this flood. Keep youreyes open, boys!"
With one in the stern and another at the bow, taking turns, the rescuersdid all they could to prevent the boat from being damaged, by fendingoff logs and heavy driftwood.
The day wore on, and though they stopped at several other towns, in asearch for Charlie's mother, their quest was unsuccessful. Nor wasanything heard of the missing players.
"Well, I guess we'll have to look for another stopping place for thenight," remarked Mr. Ringold, late that afternoon. He was about to turnthe wheel over to Joe, for a rest, when Blake, who was in the extremebow, cried out:
"Quick! Put her over! We're going to ram a barn!"
The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood; Or, Perilous Days on the Mississippi Page 14
