Explore "The Island of Desire" by Robert Dean Frisbie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It came on us out of the blackness, at four o'clock in the morning of February 22. We were all sleeping fitfully except for Powell, whose turn it was to sit under the eaves, on the lee side of the house, now and then to flash his torch to windward, on watch for the sea. Elaine and Nga slept with me, each with her head on my arm. Johnny and Jakey were close by. I had fallen into my first sound sleep when Powell woke me with a yell: "Look out! It's coming! The sea!"
The next instant there was a rush of water, about a foot deep, through the house! Wide awake instantly, I picked up Elaine and Nga, jumped to my feet, stumbled, fell, and was rolled to the far side of the house with all four children. No one of us was hurt. The hurricane lantern, in its kerosene case on top of a chest, was still burning.