"I know it; I am sure that he is at this moment in his canoe, struggling against the waves!" "And Jack, my poor Jack!" sighed I, infected with his fears.
"No, father," added Ernest; "be composed; Fritz will not be so imprudent; he will have left Jack in our house at the rock; and, probably, seeing the hopelessness of his undertaking, he is returned himself now, and is waiting there till the stream subsides a little; do allow me to go, dear father; you have ordered me cold water for my burnt hand, and it will certainly cure it to get well wet." I could not consent to expose my third son to the tempest, which was now become frightful; the sailcloth which covered our window was torn into a thousand pieces, and carried away; the rain, like a deluge, forced itself into our dwelling, even to the bed where my wife and child were lying.

I could neither make up my mind to leave them myself in this perilous situation, nor to spare my boy, who could not even be of any use to his brothers.

I commanded him to remain, succeeded in persuading him of their probable safety, and induced him to lie down to rest.

Now, in my terrible solitude, I turned to Him, "who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb;" who forbids us not to address Him in the trials he sends us, to beseech Him to soften them, or to give us strength to bear them.
Kneeling down, I dared to supplicate Him to restore me my children, submissively adding, after the example of our blessed Saviour, "Yet, not my will, but thine be done, O Lord." My prayers appeared to be heard; the storm gradually abated, and the day began to break.

I awoke Ernest, and having dressed his wounded hand, he set out for Tent House, in search of his brothers.