"What do you think it is, Rhoda?" she whispered in the ranch girl's ear. "It is so mournful and uncanny!"
"It's got me guessing," admitted the ranch girl. "I never heard that there was anything up here in the hills to be afraid of. And I don't believe it is anything that threatens us now. But I admit it gives me the creeps every time I hear it."
On the other hand the roaring of the tornado was heard for more than an hour after they entered the cave. They had come so far from the mouth of the old bears' den that the sound of the elements was muffled.
But by and by they knew that sound was changed. Instead of the roaring of the wind, torrents of rain dashed upon the rocks outside the cave. The girls ventured through the tunnel again, for Rhoda assured them that very heavy rain usually followed the big wind.
"Daddy says the wind goes before to blow a man's roof off, so that the rain that comes after can soak him through and through. Oh, girls!" exclaimed their hostess, who was ahead, "it certainly is raining."
"I—should—say!" gasped Bess.
The moisture blew into the cavern's mouth; but that was not much. What startled them was that they were slopping about in several inches of water, and this water seemed to be rising.
"There's been a cloudburst back in the hills," declared Rhoda.
"This gulch runs a stream."
"Oh, poor Walter!" cried Grace, sobbing again. "He'll be drowned."
"Of course not, goosie!" said Bess. "He's on horseback."