“Sure it would have! Well, there isn’t anything that we can do about it now. I——”
He was interrupted by an ear-splitting crash of thunder and a flaming tongue of fire flashed across the mountains, causing them to jump severely. Ted turned back toward the camp.
“Come on, we’ve simply got to get back there!” he cried.
They started off on a fast walk, regretting that they had chased the man with the light as far as they had. In their enthusiasm they had covered a long distance and they had not descended very far down the side of the mountain before large rain drops began to spatter through the trees upon them.
“I’m afraid we’re not going to make it!” shouted Ted, above the noise of the rising wind.
CHAPTER XII
HEAVEN’S ARTILLERY
Ted’s guess was a perfectly correct one. Before they were half down the mountain side the rain began to come down in sheets.
Added to the rush of wind and water there was the bewildering addition of thunder and lightning. The thunder kept up the rolling roar as the sound bounded from mountain slope to mountain slope, and the flashes of lightning almost blinded them. The quality of it was deceptive. It revealed obstacles in the path which were imaginary most of the time, and by constant flashing made the lanterns of little or no use. Two of them had already been puffed out by the wind and the rain drops on the others caused them to sputter and hiss. It was with a sense of feeling rather than seeing their way that the boys pushed on.
“Isn’t there any place that we can duck into for shelter?” Buck shouted in Ted’s ear.
“I don’t know of any,” he replied. “This is all new country to me.”