CHAPTER V

  RILEY--A THUNDERSTORM--ASCERTAINING THE DISTANCE OF OBJECTS BYSOUND--SECURITY AGAINST LIGHTNING--MEANS OF RECOVERING LIFE FROMAPPARENT DEATH BY LIGHTNING

  A few days after this incident another visitor was seen coming from FortBrooke. This person was not a horseman, but some one in a boat, whoseemed even from a distance to possess singular dexterity in the use ofthe paddle. His boat glided over the smooth surface of the bay as ifpropelled less by his exertions than by his will. Dr. Gordon viewed himthrough the spy glass, and soon decided him to be an Indian, who wasprobably bringing something to sell.

  It so turned out. He was a half-breed, by the name of Riley, whofrequently visited the fort with venison and turkeys to sell, and who onthe present occasion brought with him in addition a fine green turtle.Major Burke, conceiving that his friends at Bellevue would prize thesedelicacies more than they at the fort, to whom they were no longerrarities, had directed the Indian to bring them, with his compliments,to Dr. Gordon.

  Riley was a fine looking fellow, of about thirty years of age--tall,keen-eyed, straight as an arrow, and with a pleasing open countenance.He brought a note from the fort, recommending him for honesty andfaithfulness.

  Dr. Gordon was so much pleased with his general appearance, that heengaged him to return the following week with another supply of game,and prepared to remain several days, in case he should be needed inraising the timbers of the new house.

  Toward the close of the week, the weather gave indications of a change.A heavy looking cloud rose slowly from the west, and came towards them,muttering and growling in great anger. It was a tropical thunderstorm.The distant growls were soon converted into peals. The flashesincreased rapidly in number and intensity, and became terrific. Maryand Frank nestled close to their father; and even stout-hearted Haroldlooked grave, as though he did not feel quite so comfortable as usual.

  "That flash was uncommonly keen," Robert remarked, with an unsteadyvoice. "Do you not think, father, it was very near?"

  Instead of replying, his father appeared to be busy counting; and whenthe crash of thunder was heard, jarring their ears, and making the earthquiver, he replied,

  "Not very. Certainly not within a mile."

  "But, uncle, can you calculate the distance of the lightning?" Haroldasked.

  "Unquestionably, or I should not have spoken with so much confidence.Robert imagined, as most people do, that a flash is near in proportionto its brightness; but that is no criterion. You must calculate itsdistance by the time which elapses between the flash and the report.Sound travels at the rate of about a mile in five seconds. Should anyof you like to calculate the distance of the next flash, put your fingeron your pulse, and count the number of beats before you hear thethunder."

  An opportunity soon occurred. A vivid flash was followed after a fewseconds by a roll, and then by a peal of thunder. All were busycounting their pulses. Mary ceased when she heard the first roll,exclaiming "Five!" The others held on until they heard the loud report,and said "Seven." Dr. Gordon reported only six beats of his own pulse,remarking,

  "That flash discharged itself just one mile distant. Our pulses arequicker than seconds; and yours quicker than mine. Sound will travel amile during six beats of a person of my age, and during seven of personsof yours."

  "But, father," argued Mary, "I surely heard the thunder rolling when Isaid _five_."

  "So did I," he answered; "and that proves that although the lightningdischarged itself upon the earth at the distance of a mile, it_commenced_ to flow from a point nearer overhead."

  The young people were so deeply interested in these calculations, thatthey felt less keenly than they could have imagined possible thediscomfort of the storm. This was Dr. Gordon's intention. But at lastMary and Frank winced so uneasily, when flashes of unusual brightnessappeared, that their father remarked, "It is a weakness, my children, tobe afraid of lightning that is seen and of thunder that is heard--_theyare spent and gone_. Persons never see the flash that kills them--itdoes its work before they can see, hear, or feel."

  At this instant came a flash so keen, that it seemed to blaze into theirvery eyes, and almost simultaneously came a report like the discharge ofa cannon. Dr. Gordon's lecture was in vain; all except him and Haroldstarted to their feet. Frank ran screaming to his father. Mary rushedto a pile of bedding, and covered herself with the bed-clothing. Robertlooked at Mary's refuge, with a manifest desire to seek a place besideher. Harold fixed his eye upon his uncle, with a glance of keeninquiry.

  "This is becoming serious," said the Doctor anxiously. "Something on thepremises has been struck. Stay here, children, while I look after theservants. _Your safest place is in the middle of the room_, as far aspossible from the chimney and walls, along which the lightning passes."

  While giving these directions, at the same time that he seized his hat,cloak, and umbrella, William rushed in to say that the horses had beenstruck down and killed. They were stabled under a shelter erected neara tall palmetto--a tree so seldom struck by lightning, as to be regardedby the Indians as exempt from danger. The fluid had descended the trunk,tearing a great hole in the ground, and jarring down a part of the looseenclosure.

  "Call all hands!" said the Doctor. "Throw off the shelter instantly, tolet the rain pour upon them; and bring also your buckets and pails."

  On his going out, the children crowded to the door, to see, if possible,the damage that was done; but he waved them all back, with theinformation that during a thunder storm an open door or window is one ofthe most dangerous places about a house. They quickly retired; Mary andFrank going to the bed, Robert taking a chair to the middle of the room,and drawing up his feet from the floor. Harold's remark wascharacteristic. "I wish uncle would let me help with the horses. I amsure that that is the safest place in this neighbourhood; for I neversaw lightning strike twice on the same spot."

  One of the horses was speedily revived by the falling rain. Hestaggered to his feet, then moved painfully away, smelling at his hoofs,to ascertain what ailed them. The other continued for an hour or more,to all appearance, dead. The servants dipped buckets and pails full ofwater from pools made by the rain, and poured them upon the lifelessbody, until it was perfectly drenched. They had given up all hope of arestoration. William's eyes looked watery (for he was the coachman) andhe heaved a sorrowful sigh over his brute companion. "Poor Tom!" hesaid, "what will Jerry do now for a mate?" Another half hour passedwithout any sign of returning life; and even William would have ceasedhis efforts, had it not been for his master's decided "Pour on water!Keep pouring!"

  At last there appeared a slight twitching in one of the legs. Poor Tomwas not dead after all. William gave a "Hurra boys! he's coming to," inwhich the others joined with unfeigned delight. "Now, William," saidhis master, "do you and Sam take the strips of blanket that you rubwith, and see if you cannot start his blood to flowing more rapidly.Tom will soon open his eyes."

  Two of the servants continued to pour on water, the others to rubviolently the head, neck, legs and body. The reviving brute moved firstone foreleg, then the other, while the hinder legs were yet paralysed.Then he opened his eyes, raised his head, and made an effort to turnhimself. As soon as he was able to swallow, Dr. Gordon ordered a drenchof camphorated spirit, and left him with directions to the servants."Listen all of you. I have shown you how to treat a horse struck downby lightning. Do you treat a person in the same way. Pour on water bythe bucket full, until he gives some signs of life; then rub him hard,and give him some heating drink. _Don't give up trying for half aday_."

  The storm passed over. Tom and Jerry were once more united under theskilful management of William, who frequently boasted that "they werethe toughest creatures in creation, even lightning could not kill them."