Old Mr.
Seaforth's house stood at that time on the little point, just beyond
the curve of the river, at the foot of which our own house stands,
and as the river continued to rise, Mr. Seaforth went about actively
securing his property. At first he only thought of his boat and
canoes, which, with the help of his son Peter and a Canadian, who
happened at the time to be employed about the place, he dragged up
and secured to an iron staple in the side of his house. Soon,
however, he found that the danger was greater than at first he
imagined. The point became completely covered with water, which
brought down great numbers of _half_-drowned and _quite_-drowned
cattle, pigs, and poultry, and stranded them at the garden fence, so
that in a short time poor Mr. Seaforth could scarcely move about his
overcrowded domains. On seeing this, he drove his own cattle to the
highest land in his neighbourhood and hastened back to the house,
intending to carry as much of the furniture as possible to the same
place. But during his short absence the river had risen so rapidly
that he was obliged to give up all thoughts of this, and think only
of securing a few of his valuables. The bit of land round his
dwelling was so thickly covered with the poor cows, sheep, and other
animals, that he could scarcely make his way to the house, and you
may fancy his consternation on reaching it to find that the water was
more than knee-deep round the walls, while a few of the cows and a
whole herd of pigs had burst open the door (no doubt accidentally)
and coolly entered the dining-room, where they stood with drooping
heads, very wet, and apparently very miserable.
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