24 CALIFORNIA DESERT TRAILS 



encountered a cold swirl of water that came half to 

 the knee. Next my groping hand took note of the 

 abnormal position of the tent-pole, which leaned 

 almost horizontal under the ruin of the canvas. I 

 saw what had happened: the creek was over its 

 banks, had undermined the pole and brought down 

 the tent, and was making a clean breach through 

 my quarters. 



My thoughts flew to Kaweah. He was some 

 twenty-five yards downstream from me and on 

 low^er ground. Struggling under the water-logged 

 canvas I hurriedly got into my soaking clothes and 

 somehow got clear of the tent. It was pitch-dark, 

 raining like fury, and the water was now knee-high 

 and running like a sluice. I stumbled down to 

 Kaweah, who neighed shrilly when he saw me. He 

 had taken the highest spot his rope allowed him, 

 but the water was almost to his belly, and we were 

 both in some danger of being swept away. Cutting 

 the rope I scrambled with him up the bank and tied 

 him on high ground near the cave. 



Then for an hour I slopped to and fro rescuing 

 what remained of my effects and storing them in 

 dry comers of the cave. Not a few articles had been 

 carried away, but most were caught under the col- 

 lapsed tent, which itself was anchored by a rock 

 against which it had stranded. It was wet work, but 

 warming, and I soon worked up a first-rate Turkish 

 bath. 



The next need was fire. By now the cave was a 

 poor refuge, though it might have looked enjoyable 

 to a naiad. Rain dripped everywhere from the shelv- 



