Flood Warning

by Jacqueline Pearce

  Tom jumped out of the way before she could step on his feet. “It’s no use,” Tom called to Mom.

  She stood beside the mother cow, her lips pursed together in thought.

  “Stay right there a minute,” she told Tom. She turned and disappeared into the barn and came out carrying a coil of rope. She tossed it across the water to Tom.

  Tom looped the rope around the calf’s neck and tied a knot. “Come on,” he coaxed again, tugging on the length of rope.

  The calf tried to keep her feet planted, but Tom pulled harder. The calf took one step into the water and mooed in distress. Tom held tight to the rope as the calf tried to step backward again. He pulled once more, and the calf took another step.

  “That’s it!” called Mom.

  The calf stood with all four hooves in the water now. It was only up to her knees, but she was still frightened. The calf’s mother and the other cows mooed encouragement. Amos appeared from behind the barn and ran up to join them. His barks added to the noise.

  “Maa!” cried the calf, looking at her mother.

  Tom stepped forward, tugging on the rope. Suddenly the calf kicked up her hooves. She galloped the last few steps out of the water and onto dry land.

  “Good work,” Mom said to Tom. The calf nuzzled up beside her mother. Mom frowned. “They’re all on dry land now,” she said. “But not for long.”

  Tom and Mom looked at the muddy water that was creeping closer and closer to the barn and house.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Evacuation Plans

  “Well,” said Mom, “we won’t be able to carry the cows upstairs like we did with the furniture.”

  Tom laughed, but he knew the problem was serious. He looked back at the little hill of grass on which the calf had been stranded.

  “We need a big hill,” he said. “Big enough to fit all the cows and all the people.”

  Mom nodded and looked thoughtful.

  “Hello!” called a voice behind them. It was Peggy riding up the driveway on her bicycle. She stopped the bike and hopped off. Amos trotted over to sniff one of her legs, his tail wagging.

  “I can’t stay,” Peggy said, keeping hold of her handlebars. “I’ve got to get back home to help pack. I just stopped by to tell you about the evacuation train. It’s taking anyone who wants to leave to Vancouver.”

  “Are you going?” Tom asked.

  “Just my mom, my little brother and me,” Peggy told them. “My dad’s still helping at the river. He and my older brothers are staying here with the cows.”

  Tom looked at Mom.

  “What are we going to do?” he asked. A train ride to the city would be fun, but the Lone Ranger wouldn’t evacuate. He would stay and help.

  “I’d like you to be on that train,” Mom said. “A flood is no place for children.”

  “But what about the cows?” said Tom. “There’s no train for them.”

  “You’re right,” said Mom. “We’ll have to figure out what to do with the cows. And we can’t wait for your dad.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  What to do?

  “You could take them to the graveyard,” Peggy said. She climbed back on her bike.

  “The graveyard?” Tom and Mom said in surprise.

  “My oldest brother, Jeff, is in charge of the cows while my dad is helping with the sandbags. Jeff says people are talking about moving all the dairy cows to the graveyard,” Peggy said.

  Mom pursed her lips. “It is the only big hill around,” she said. “And there’s enough clear space for the cows.”

  Peggy waved goodbye and pedaled off. “Good luck!” she called over her shoulder.

  Tom watched Peggy go. He wondered what fun he would miss by staying here instead of going with Peggy on the train. But then he thought of the Lone Ranger again. The masked hero wouldn’t leave on an evacuation train with a bunch of women and children. He would ride alongside on his noble horse, Silver, guarding the train from outlaws. And if there were no outlaws to worry about, he would stay behind and help with the flood—even if that meant taking care of cows.

  Tom looked past Peggy to the steep mountain slopes rising in the distance. The river couldn’t flood that high, but it would be impossible to get the cows up to the mountains. Down near the Fraser River, the ground was almost completely flat. If the river kept rising, it would spread out and cover all the farmland. If they didn’t move the cows, the cows could drown.

  There were very few high spots close by. The closest and largest one was the graveyard hill. It was covered with graves, but there was also grass.

  “It could work,” Tom said.

  Mom nodded.

  The problem was how to get the cows to the graveyard.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tom’s Plan

  “We’ll pack the pickup truck with supplies, and I’ll drive it,” Mom said. “The cows will have to walk, and you’ll have to lead them.”

  Tom’s eyes widened. “Lead them down the road?”

  “There’s no other way,” said Mom.

  As Tom and Mom loaded the truck with camping, cooking and milking supplies, Tom worried. How would he get the cows to walk down the road? And how would he get them to go where he wanted them to go?

  He thought about the group of cows milling behind the mother cow as she called to her stranded calf. That mother cow was the leader. The other cows always followed her to the barn when it was time for milking. And she had followed her calf.

  Tom smiled. He had an idea for how to move the cows.

  When the truck was loaded and ready to go, Mom tacked a note for Dad to the back door.

  Tom found the mother cow and her calf. Once more, he tied the rope around the calf’s neck. He took hold of the loose end and gave a gentle tug.

  “Maa!” cried the calf, resisting Tom’s pull.

  Tom held up a bundle of tender, sweet grass he had picked beside the driveway. The calf nosed the grass and opened her mouth. Before her teeth could get a good grip, Tom pulled the bundle out of her reach. The calf took a step after it. Tom walked forward, one hand holding the rope and the other holding the grass just out of the calf’s reach. The calf followed. Then the mother cow stepped forward, too, staying close to her calf.

  Tom looked behind the mother cow. The other cows and the two other calves had stepped forward as well. They were following their lead cow. Tom grinned. His plan was going to work. There was just one problem. The graveyard was three miles west. He could walk with the cows for three miles, but he wouldn’t be able to hold his arm out with a handful of grass for that long. He had to think of some other way to lure the calf forward.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Amos Helps

  Tom led the calf down the driveway, away from the barn and house. The cows followed. Behind them, Mom started up the pickup truck and began to slowly follow them. Amos barked happily as he trotted up to Tom’s side.

  Before they had reached the road at the end of the driveway, Tom’s arm was already tired from holding out the grass. He put down his arm to rest it. The calf bumped her nose against his leg as she rooted for the grass. Tom yanked it out of her reach, taking a step sideways. The calf stepped after him, and all the cows behind her began to move to the side of the driveway.

  “Keep them on the road!” called Mom out the window of the truck.

  Amos barked from the middle of the driveway. It looked as if he was trying to get them back on track too.

  “Okay, boy,” Tom said. “We’re coming.” But inside, he did not feel so sure. He looked at the road ahead. How could he possibly keep the cows walking together for three miles?

  Amos took a few steps and barked again.

  “Hold on…” Tom started to tell Amos. But then he stopped. He looked at the brown leather collar around the dog’s neck.

  “Wait! ” Tom told Amos. The dog sat obediently.

  Tom caught up to Amos, pulling the calf along with him. Then he bent down and tucked the long blades of grass under Amos’s coll
ar.

  “Okay, Amos,” Tom said. “Lead the way!”

  Amos barked and jumped to his feet. He seemed to know what Tom was saying. He began trotting ahead down the center of the driveway. The calf followed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cattle Drive

  At the end of the driveway, Amos stopped and sat while Tom checked that no cars were coming. Tom pointed Amos to the left. Amos, Tom and the calf stepped onto the road and began walking. The whole herd of dairy cows followed. Behind them, Mom followed in the truck.

  They were doing it! They were walking the cows down the middle of the road. It was like a parade—or better yet, it was like an old-fashioned cattle drive. And he and Amos were the Lone Ranger and Silver, leading the way. No cattle rustlers would get past them.

  Tom wished Peggy was there to see him go by. But she had already left for the train. He continued down the road, walking proudly.

  An hour later, Tom and the cows were still walking. Tom’s legs felt heavy. It was getting harder and harder for him to lift one foot in front of the other. The cows were slowing down too. Tom wondered how much longer the lead calf and the others could last. They weren’t used to this kind of walking. Also, it was getting late, and the adult cows would need to be milked soon.

  They had covered a lot of ground. A few times they met a car coming toward them. Each time, the car had pulled off to the side of the road to let the cows pass. Tom had waved thanks to the drivers.

  They soon met up with other dairy cows making their way to the graveyard. If Tom hadn’t been so tired, he would have laughed at the strange sight they made.

  As he walked, Tom wondered how his dad and the other men were doing on the dykes. And when would Dad be able to join them?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tent City

  Finally, they arrived at the graveyard. Tom led the cows up the hill to an empty patch of grass beside the rows of headstones. Mom drove the truck as far up the hill as she could, then parked.

  Tom looked back down the hill toward the town and his family’s farm. He could see the river in the distance, spreading past its normal banks. The water did not rush. It oozed and crept. The fields that he and Peggy had walked through that morning had been swallowed. Water licked around the houses. Ahead of the water, the road out of town was full of cows and vehicles making their way to the graveyard.

  Tom left the cows grazing and headed down to help Mom unload the truck.

  “We’ll put the tent up over there,” Mom said. She pointed at a spot where several canvas tents had already been set up. “We’ve got to get those cows milked and the milk trucked away before the road closes.”

  By the time all the work was done, the sun was beginning to set. Tom was exhausted. He slumped down on the ground beside their tent. Other tents had risen all around them. It was like a tent city full of bustling people.

  “Here you go,” said a woman whose hair was tied back with a yellow kerchief. She held out a cup of steaming coffee to Mom and one to Tom as well. Tom didn’t really like coffee, but he took it gratefully.

  “Thank you,” Mom said with a tired smile. “It’s been quite a day.”

  “Yes,” said the woman with a tired smile of her own. “But with everyone working together, we’ll get by.”

  Mom nodded and sipped her coffee.

  “The Red Cross is feeding everyone tonight,” the woman said. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

  That is good news, Tom thought. But as he looked down toward the dark, silent water, he wondered how his dad and the other men were doing on the dykes. This time, he did not wish he could be there with them.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Graveyard Island

  When Tom woke in the morning, there were three people in the tent. Dad had joined them during the night. Mom was already up and opening the tent flap for Amos to go out. She saw Tom was awake and put a finger to her lips.

  “Let him sleep,” she whispered, nodding at Dad. “You and I can do the milking.”

  A few minutes later, Tom was standing outside the tent looking around. A patch of hill was covered with tents. A huge crowd of cows mooed and munched grass beside the gravestones. Tom looked down the hill and out toward the farms. Brown water seemed to cover everything. Branches, bushes and fence posts floated on the surface. The roof of a chicken coop with a chicken still perched on it floated by. About the spot where the road used to be, someone was rowing a boat. The graveyard was now an island.

  “Hey, Tom!”

  Tom turned to see a boy waving at him from beside a tall headstone. It was Mike from his class at school.

  “Do you want to play hide and seek?” Mike asked. Tom saw several other kids getting ready to hide among the gravestones.

  “Sure!” Tom said. Then he remembered the cows. “After I help with milking,” he added.

  Partway through the milking, Dad joined Tom and Mom. He had not shaved since the start of the flood. His clothes were rumpled and dirty.

  “I hear you were a big help yesterday,” Dad said, resting a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”

  Tom wanted to shrug off his dad’s praise. He wanted to tell him it was all in a day’s work for the Lone Ranger. But he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his mouth.

  When the milking was finished, Dad put his hand on Tom’s shoulder again.

  “We might be here awhile,” Dad said. “Some of the adults are meeting to make plans for getting the milk to market and supplies delivered. Do you want to join us?”

  Tom felt a warm bloom of pride in his chest. Finally, he was getting included in the important stuff. He paused as he heard laughter and saw two kids running through the graveyard, dodging headstones.

  “Home free!” one of them called.

  Tom thought of the long walk with the cows yesterday and all the extra work he had done. Even the Lone Ranger needed a break sometimes. He looked up at Dad.

  “Is it all right if I go and play?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Dad said with a grin. He ruffled Tom’s hair with one big hand. “You’ve earned it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Home

  Tom and his parents stayed in the graveyard camp for almost three weeks. It took that long for the floodwater to finally sink and seep away.

  When it was time to return home, Tom searched the graveyard for some long, tender shoots of grass that the cows hadn’t already eaten. Dad laughed when Tom stuck the grass under Amos’s collar and the cows started following Amos.

  The walk home, however, was grim. Everything was covered with dark, stinking mud. The crops were ruined. Berry bushes and hop plants were dead. Dad said it would probably be awhile before they saw another rat or mouse.

  Tom felt relieved when they herded the cows down their own driveway at last. He looked across the street to Peggy’s house and wondered if she was back yet.

  Tom and his parents had visited the farm the day before to assess the damage, repair fences and clean out the cow barn. Now, Tom opened the double gates to let the cows back into the field beside the barn. The sun was shining, and Dad said the ground would soon be dry.

  “Let’s have a break for lunch,” Mom suggested.

  The three of them stood looking at the house. Luckily the ground the house was built on was slightly higher than the rest of the farm. But a dark water stain skirted the bottom of the house. They had all looked inside yesterday and seen the mud that coated the rooms on the first floor. Now, Mom and Dad didn’t seem to want to go back in.

  “I don’t know where we can eat,” Mom said. She had packed them a lunch before leaving the graveyard camp. It would be a while before the kitchen would be clean enough for the furniture to be moved back downstairs. She looked around the farm at all the mud.

  “We could sit in the truck,” Dad said.

  Tom looked up at his bedroom window. The kitchen table was crowded into his bedroom with other pieces of furniture.

  “Let’s have a
picnic inside,” Tom said. “We could all sit on my bed.”

  Mom and Dad smiled.

  “And later,” Tom said, “we can find the radio and listen to the Lone Ranger.”

  Amos barked, as if in agreement.

  Tom entered the house with his mom and dad. There was a lot of work ahead of them, but it was good to be home.

  Jacqueline Pearce is the author of several books for children and young adults, including Mystery of the Missing Luck, also in the Orca Echoes series. Her stories are inspired by local history, nature and animals, as well as multicultural experiences. One of the things Jacqueline loves about writing is when the research leads her to interesting places, such as faraway Japan or the closer-to-home old Agassiz graveyard. Jacqueline grew up on Vancouver Island and currently lives in Burnaby, British Columbia, with her husband, daughter and two cats.

  www.jacquelinepearce.ca