FLOOD AND THUNDER. 
ruins on the granite rocks beneath — all combine 
in grandeur that is terrible. 
What, amid such an awful passion-burst of 
nature, is a tiny human form ? 
That winding ledge, upon the mountain's storm- 
swept side, seemed fearfully narrow. With des- 
peration they clung to it as the wind gathered 
the falling rain in sheets and dashed it against 
them. Between the gusts, drearily, step by step, 
they advanced as the lightning showed them 
their pathway. Ere long, between the thunder- 
peals, was heard the roar of threatening waters, 
and they knew the stream was booming among 
the rocks at their side. They had reached the 
Boulder canon. Its creek, swollen to its brim 
and rushing a resistless flood, made them tremble 
for the safety of each bridge that crossed its 
tortuous course. Once the lightning revealed a 
scene that thrilled the terrified mother cold with 
horror. 
Mabel’s horse had mistaken the road, and, 
ignorant of this, she was urging it with all her 
energy into the boiling, seething flood. One 
moment more and they would be swept under a 
bridge and be dashed against the dark, pitiless 
rocks. Mrs. Maxwell’s whole being seemed 
voiced in the scream that reached her child just 
as she discovered her danger and turned from 
the threatened grasp of inevitable death. 
