With a rush and a roar the storm burst upon them. Wildly did the stout tent sway as the wind broke against it. Rufus understood speedily enough why the scout comrades who had had experience went to so much extra pains to fasten it so securely. There were lots of times when, despite all the precautions, he feared the canvas could never hold out against that terrible wind that made playthings of forest monarchs, and seemed capable of sweeping everything from its path.
Never, so long as they lived, would the two tenderfoot scouts forget that night; it would always be marked with a white stone in their minds, such were the tortures they endured. Often Rufus would half squirm to his knees, his face turned pale with apprehension, as he clutched the sleeve of Elmer or Lil Artha's coat, in deadly fear that the worst was about to happen.
The rain descended in torrents, and the lightning flashed in a way to fairly cause them to shut their blinded eyes; while terrific bursts of thunder rocked the ground and made them think a salvo from the heaviest guns known to modern warfare was being fired.
So the time dragged wearily along, hour after hour. No one dreamed of trying to snatch a wink of sleep while this din was going on. They sat there, glad to know that, thanks to the admirable way in which the heavy canvas had been waterproofed, and the addition of a fly over the tent, they were able to keep the rain out. Of course a small amount did seep under certain portions of the tent, despite all their precautions, and the drain that had been dug above to carry the flood off; but they were able to keep pretty dry, all things considered.
With the storm came a cool air that chilled them to the bone. They had a couple of lanterns, one of which was kept lighted all the time, and this enabled them to see what was going on. Lil Artha set a good example, after night came on, by wrapping his warm blanket about his shoulders, as he sat there Indian fashion. Rufus was indeed glad to copy this example, and found it well worth while for the additional comfort he secured thereby; and in the end all of them did the same thing.
Every now and then they heard awe-inspiring sounds that Lil Artha told the tenderfeet were produced by falling trees. Each crash gave Rufus cause for a fresh shiver; he could not help thinking of what he had proposed concerning their being likely to find more safety if they took up their station under the forest growth. He was glad now in every atom of his being that those more experienced scouts had frowned down upon such a silly proposition.
Along about midnight, however, Elmer discovered positive signs that the worst was over. His announcement brought a feeling of relief to Rufus and Alec; indeed, even Lil Artha was heard to give expression to his gratitude. George, however, grumbled, as was his habit of old.
"Tough luck, that's what I call it, fellows," he went on, as though wholly disgusted with the freaks of the weather. "Why couldn't this old storm have held off till we got back home again? What business did it have coming down on us right in the midst of our camping? Why, we haven't begun to enjoy ourselves much yet; it's been all work so far; and now everything's going to be soaking wet, the mud'll bother us, and like as not a second rain'll follow the first. Things pretty nearly always do happen in threes, you notice."
"Oh! well, we're all alive, George, for one thing," Lil Artha told the grumbler. "And we've still got heaps and heaps of good stuff to eat along. Things might have been a whole lot worse than this, let me tell you."
"Huh! I can't just see that," continued the other, though in a fainter tone, as if really half ashamed of his complaining manner; which had become second nature with George, so that he often spoke in that way without thinking how badly it sounded.