there it stopped, but it was a plenty for me. I see at once there wasn’t no help anywhere else, and for once in my life I did pray, real earnest, and—queer enough—not to get out, but to be made good. I kind of forgot where I was, I see so complete what I was; but after a while I did pray to live in the flesh; I wanted to make some amends to Russell for pesterin’ on him so.
It seemed to me as though I’d laid there two days. A rain finally come on, with a good even-down pour, that washed in a little, and cooled my hot head; and after it passed by I heerd one whip-poor-will singin’, so’t I knew it was night. And pretty soon I heerd the tramp of a horse’s feet;—it come up; it stopped; I heerd Russell say out loud, “O Lord!” and give a groan, and then I called to him. I declare, he jumped!
So I got him to go look for baby first, because I could wait; and lo! she was all safe in the trundle-bed, with Lu beside of her, both on ’em stretched out together, one of her little hands on his nose; and when Russell looked in to the door she stirred a bit, and Lu licked her hand to keep her quiet. It tells in the Bible about children’s angels always seein’ the face of God, so’s to know quick what to do for ’em, I suppose; and I’m sure her’n got to her afore the tornado; for though the house-roof had blowed off, and the chimbley tumbled down, there wa’n’t a splinter nor a brick on her bed, only close by the head on’t a great hunk of stone had fell down, and steadied up the clothes-press from tumblin’ right on top of her.
So then Russell rode over, six miles, to a neighbor’s, and got two men, and betwixt ’em all they pried up the beams of the barn, that had blowed on to the roof and pinned it down over me, and then lifted up the boards and got me out; and I wa’n’t hurt, except a few bruises: but after that day I begun to get gray hairs.
Well, Russell was pretty thankful, I b’lieve,—more so’n he need to be for such a wife. We fixed up some kind of a shelter, but Lu howled so all night we couldn’t sleep. It seems Russell had seen the tornado to Cumberton, and, judgin’ from its course ’twould come past the clearin’, he didn’t wait a minute, but saddled up and come off; but it had crossed the road once or twice, so it was nigh about eleven o’clock afore he got home; but it was broad moonlight. So I hadn’t been under the roof only about fifteen hours; but it seemed more.
In the mornin’ Russell set out to find Simon, and I was so trembly I couldn’t bear to stay alone, and I went with him, he carryin’ baby, and Lu goin’ before, as tickled as he could be. We went a long spell through the woods, keepin’ on the edge of the tornado’s road; for’t had made a clean track about a quarter of a mile wide, and felled the trees flat,—great tulips cut off as sharp as pipe-stems, oaks twisted like dandelion-stems, and hickories curled right up in a heap. Presently Lu give a bark, and then such a howl! and there was Simon, dead enough; a big oak