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The creek itself was boiling past, uprooted saplings, rocks and drowned branches bubbling briefly to the surface

Tommy Mueller peered at the torrent, shoulders hunched nearly to the brim of the slouch hat he wore pulled down over his ears I could see doubt etched in every line of his body, and bent close to shout in his ear

"Stay here!" I bellowed, pitching my voice below the shriek of the wind

He shook his head,at orously, and pointed up the bank; the muddy soil was crumbly here; I could see small chunks of the black dirt melt away even as I watched

"Get back!" I shouted

He pointed emphatically himself--back in the direction of the farht it was too dangerous; he wanted me to come back to the house, to wait out the storm

He definitely had a point On the other hand, I could see the strea away the soft bank in gobbets and chunks Wait er, and no one could cross--neither would it be safe for days after; floods like this kept the water high for as long as a week, as the rains froher up the ht of being cooped up in a four-rooh to spur rasp, I wheeled about, the horse tossing its head against the rain, stepping carefully on the slick mud

We reached the upper slopes of the bank, where a layer of thick dead leaves gave better footing I turned the horse, motioned Tommy back out of the way, and leaned forward like a steeplechaser, elbows digging into the bag of barley bound over the saddle in front of ht was enough; the horse was noabout here than I was I felt the sudden thrust as the hindquarters dropped and bunched, and then ere flying down the slope like a runaway toboggan A jolt and asplash, and I was up past ht as well have been welded to the reins, but I had nothing useful to offer in ter the horse his head I could feel huge s as it swa past us It dragged at e

Then caainst the strea water like a colander I turned in the saddle, to see To open under his hat I couldn’t let go of the reins to wave, but bowed toward hied the horse with my heels and turned toward home

The hood of reat difference; I couldn’t get much wetter I knuckled a wet strand of hair out of my eyes and turned the horse’s head toward the upland trail, relieved to be headed home, rain or no

I had been at the Muellers’ cabin for three days, seeing eighteen-year-old Petronella through her first labor It would be her last, too, according to Petronella Her seventeen-year-old husband, peeking tentatively into the room in the middle of the second day, had received a burst of Ger back to the ht red with mortification

Still, a few hours later, I had seen Freddy--looking er than seventeen--kneel tentatively by his wife’s bedside, face whiter than her shift as he reached a hesitant, scrubbed finger to push aside the blanket covering his daughter

He stared dumbly at the round head, furred with soft black, then looked at his wife, as though in need of pro

"Ist sie nicht wunderschön?" Petronella said softly

He nodded, slowly, then laid his head on her lap and began to cry The wo dinner

It had been a good dinner, too; the food was one of the benefits of house calls to the Muellers Even now, s and fried Blutwurst, and the lingering taste of buttered eggs in eneral discomfort of ed so the end of summer but not yet harvest tiht of what I hoped would be their autue stoneware crock of salted fish on the floor, and sacks of flour, corn, rice, beans, barley, and oat ga it over a fire--and I had doneoatinstead to survive on raw onions and dried meat

I couldn’t tell whether it was si down trees, plowing fields, and carrying deer carcasses over mountains, they honestly were too exhausted to think of asse a proper meal, or whether they did it on purpose, so that I would feel necessary

The wind had dropped, now that I was in the shelter of the ridge, but the rain was still pelting down, and the footing was treacherous, as thea layer of fallen leaves floating on top, deceptive as quicksand I could feel the horse’s discomfort as its hooves slipped with each step

"Good boy," I said soothingly "Keep it up, that’s a good fellow" The horse’s ears pricked slightly, but he kept his head down, stepping carefully