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Book 4.

By: Ellis W. Peterson

This is the fourth book in the MANICUB Series. Manicub is an Indian boy raised by two bears in the Rokcy Mountains. He goes through many wonderful adventures that tell of courage, honesty and character.

In tbis one a great flood is about to devestate the valley where all his animal friends live. He devises an ingenious plan to save them from drowning --- but his arch enemy, a huge grizzley bear has different plans for him.

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Manicub And The Flood

The rain poured down in sheets, the thunder thundered, and the lightening flashed and filled the whole valley with its brilliance. Manicub shivered as he sat at the mouth of the cave, where he lived with his foster parents, Baroom and Baar, the cinnamon bears.
“Foster father,” Manicub said. “Will it never stop raining? This is the fourth straight day.”
“Four days?” grumbled the old bear. “When I was younger, it rained for eighteen days without stop. That was the year of the great flood.”
“The great flood?” Manicub asked “what was that? Where did it come from? Tell me.”
“The mountains? Floods always come from the mountains. When it rains hard, the streams fill with water, overflow their banks, collect together and form a wall of water, which crashes downward taking everything in its path.
“ That year it roared into the hidden valley at its wide end, picked up speed, smashing everything in its way until it roared out of the valley through the narrow end. It took everything with it, creatures, trees and their homes. They were all swept to their deaths over the cliffs at the narrow end.”
“It was a terrible flood,” Baroom said.
“Do you think it could happen again?” Manicub asked.
“It is very possible,” Barrom said, as he watched the rain increase in ferocity.
“Then we must warn the hidden valley creatures to get to the high ground,” Manicub pleaded.
“It’s no use,” Baroom said. “They will not listen, they have no initiative, They will see the rain and they will wait, cowering in their burrows for the inevitable.”
“No. No,” Manicub cried. “Many of them are my friends, I will save them in spite of themselves.”
“Hurrmph, do what you will,” grumbled the old bear as he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep, as he was wont to do so often these days.
Manicub spent the rest of the night sleepless, thinking about the flood and his friends.
The next morning, he was up bright and early, said goodbye to the drowsy Baroom and headed for the hidden valley.
There were still dark ominous clouds in the sky, pouring down rain into the valley. Slowly and steadily Manicub treaded his way through the familiar mountains, until he reached the ledge that overlooked the hidden valley.
The valley was surrounded on three sides by high mountains and the fourth side stood wide open to the south. But at the end, there was no way out of the valley, for it opened into a plain hundreds of feet below. It was the sheer drop with no safe way down.
“That’s the end where all the creatures were swept to their deaths.” Manicub thought out loud.
He stretched himself out on the ledge, under the protection of a thick mulberry bush, and tried to think of a way to save the creatures below.
He could see that the valley floor was already covered with a thick layer of water and that no more would be absorbed into the ground. Little pools had already began to form.
He watched many of the woods creatures below, scurrying around doing their daily chores in the downpour.
He could visualize the raging waters sweeping down the mountainsides, building up momentum and rushing down the length of the valley, washing all those creatures to their deaths at the open end.
Manicub desperately needed a plan, if he were to save them. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his old friend, Flat-Tail, the beaver, hard at work, damming up the newly formed pools. The beaver was dragging branches to the pool, pushing them into the water, climbing on top of them, and then using his tail as a rudder, pushing them into place.
Suddenly, the light of an idea started to form in Manicub’s mind. He stood up and brushed a spider’s web from the side of his face. Carefully, he stepped to the side, so as not to destroy the spider’s hard and careful work. He stooped down and examined the web. The spider had spun a bridge between two trees, and from this bridge he had built his beautiful and complex web.
Suddenly, Manicub had the full blown idea of how to save his friends, flash into his mind. He jumped into the air and yelled happily out loud. The little spider came scurrying along his web to see what had caused the disturbance.
“Thank you, little friend,” Manicub said. Then he turned and raced away.
He ran down the path to the hidden valley and across to the pool where flat-tail was working. He called to the beaver and told him to stop working and come to him. The beaver grumbled, but obeyed.
“Come, Flat-Tail, I have a plan that will save the wood creatures from the flood.” Manicub said to the slow-moving beaver.
“What flood?” asked Flat-Tail, as he looked around.
“The one that’s coming,” Manicub bellowed, as he headed towards the narrow end of the valley with the beaver puffing after him.
Once at the narrow end, Manicub explained his plan to Flat-tail and they immediately set to work. Together they gathered vines and wove them into a great rope, Then they stretched the rope across the middle of the narrowest part of the valley. By tying it between two great trees. They chose the spot carefully. It was just before the valley dropped off into the cliffs below.
“This will be our emergency life-line.” Manicub said, when they had finished. “Come, let us find shelter from the rain and rest for awhile.”
The next morning it was still raining when they started their long journey to the upper end of the valley, the end where the flood would start. Together they spent the next two days building a large raft with the trees that Flat-Tail had felled with those sharp teeth of his. They pulled and tugged and struggled till they placed it exactly where Manicub thought the flood waters would pass.
“Now, we are prepared.” Manicub told Flat-Tail. It has rained for over ten days. Let us hope that it stops and we will have no need of the raft.”
But it rained, and it rained, and it rained. During those rainy days, Manicub tried in vain to get all the valley creatures to abandon their homes and seek higher ground. But to no avail.
Then on the fifteenth day, as Manicub was trying to impress, upon a raccoon family, the importance of getting to the higher ground, they all heard a deep rumbling coming from the mountains.
Suddenly, Horace the hawk zoomed into view.
“Manicub, it’s started,” the hawk called out, “The upper mountain streams are overflowing, and a wave of water is starting its way down the mountain side. The first wave of the flood waters should be here soon.”
Horace flew off to warn others, and Manicub raced towards the raft. Flat-Tail went with him. Together they waited and listened to the rumbling getting closer and closer.
Suddenly, a wall of water several feet high cascaded down upon them, jerking the raft and almost tipping it over.
The first wave of water roared past Manicub and Flat-Tail and continued down the valley, building up power as it went. Went it reached the narrow end of the valley, it splashed over the sides, forming great waterfalls. In its wake it left over a foot of water on the valley floor.
“Hurry, we have no time to lose,” Manicub said. “The water will get deeper and deeper and there will be an ever stronger wave when the over flow from the far upper streams get here.”
Manicub maneuvered the raft into the middle of the steady flowing water. He used the rudder-oar he had fashioned after Flat-Tail’s tail. This way, he could steer as well as row.
The first passengers that they picked up were a pheasant family who had been perched on a dead log. They then got the raccoon family that went swimming by. Then, with Flat-tails help, Manicub maneuvered the raft back and forth across the upper valley all morning picking up family after family.
The water level kept rising and the current got stronger and stronger. Soon Manicub’s twelve-year old muscles got tired, as he constantly strained to keep the raft from being swept downstream.
“Look,” Flat-Tail shouted and pointed to a huge form in the water, that was swimming steadily toward them.
Before Manicub could steer away, a giant grizzly bear clawed its way aboard the raft. His tremendous weight almost capsized the make-shift raft.
“Get off!” Manicub shouted, “We have no room for you!”
“Bah, I go where I please.” the grizzly growled. “I am Trozz t