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Updated: June 26, 2025


Gazing at Daddy, Peegwish fell into an owlish reverie, from which he was aroused by old Liz putting a small sack of barley on the ground before him. The Indian received it with thanks, threw it on his shoulder, and with an expression of unalterable determination on his visage, returned to his own home. The home of Peegwish was dilapidated like himself.

The flood had risen sufficiently to float the house, and it was beginning to slide from its foundations! "Peegwish," he said, quickly dropping the things with which he had been busy, "is there a stout rope anywhere? Oh, yes; I forgot," he added, springing towards the attic. "Blessings on you, Beauty, for having guided me here!" In a few seconds a stout rope or cable was procured.

Even Peegwish's imagination failed to regard it as beer. But Peegwish had been somewhat sobered by his sleep. Hearing the ominous sounds on the river he jumped up and ran outside. The sight that presented itself was sufficiently alarming. During the night the water had risen six feet, and the ice had been raised to a level with the floor of the Indian's hut. But this was not the worst.

Thus they spent the remainder of that day until night put a stop to their exertions and crushed their hopes. Then, dispirited and weary, they returned to the canoes and encamped beside them. Peegwish was engaged in roasting a duck when they arrived. "What a difference between the evening and the morning," said Victor, as he flung himself down beside the fire.

Finally, they swept round the corner of the old house at Willow Creek, and burst upon the gaze of its inhabitants, while Peegwish and the pig were at the height of their struggles. Mrs Ravenshaw chanced to be the first to observe them. "Ian Macdonald!" she shouted, for his form in the bow of the leading canoe was the most conspicuous.

Before setting off, however, common propriety required that he should look in at Willow Creek in passing, not only to let them know what had occurred, if they had not already observed it, but to ask if there was any message for Mr Ravenshaw. First releasing Peegwish, who now regarded him as a maniac, he embarked with him in the punt, and rowed over. It was by that time approaching the afternoon.

"It is very sad that the hut of poor Peegwish has been carried away," observed Miss Martha Macdonald, while presiding at the breakfast-table. "Yes, it iss fery sad," responded Angus Macdonald, in a somewhat unamiable tone; "but it iss more sad that he will pe living in our kitchen now, for that wuman Wildcat must pe there too, and it iss not coot for Wildcat to live in the kitchen.

He was mentally enacting that scene over again when Peegwish pulled up to the house and passed under the window. "Come along, you old savage," said Ian, with a good-humoured nod; "I want your help. Go round to the front and shove into the passage. The doorway's wide enough." Peegwish, who was fond of Ian, replied to the nod with a hideous smile.

The peculiar action of the flood had favoured Peegwish in regard to his beloved art, for, whereas in former days he was obliged to get up from his lair and go down to the river bank to fish, now he had nothing more to do than open the window and cast out his line, and Wildcat was close at hand to fetch him a light when his pipe chanced to go out, which it frequently did, for the red old savage slept much.

Peegwish looked into the room for a moment, and extended his left hand for the piece of lighted stick; with his right hand he held his line. Suddenly that hand received an amazing tug. Peegwish unintentionally scattered the firebrand, dropped his pipe from his lips, and uttered a shout, while with both hands he held on to the jerking line.

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