“The lightning is letting up, but listen to that thunder!” remarked Buck. “That’s heaven’s artillery for fair!”
A full and weary hour dragged by while they remained there in the shelter of the big rock waiting for the storm to cease. The lightning had moved on across the mountain and the thunder was about to follow. The rolls of the pealing concussions now came to them in a more muffled state and the rain was beginning to thin out though it did not cease to fall. They had hopes of making a break when the thunder and lightning had passed away.
“We won’t stay here just for the sake of the rain,” said Ted. “We couldn’t possibly get any wetter than we are, so as soon as we are sure that there will be no more lightning we’ll make a dash for it.”
“Better be careful of your dashes,” warned Buck. “The ground has become very slippery and we’ll have to watch our steps.”
“We’ll keep our eyes wide open,” promised Ted. “I guess we can go now.”
The five wet and stiff boys stood up straight, stretching their aching muscles. After the game of the evening, the chase over the mountains, and the thorough wetting, all of them felt worn out and stiff. It was with genuine pleasure that they looked forward to the return to the camp, for the exercise alone.
“It isn’t going to do us much good to get to camp,” said Drummer. “There won’t be any wood to start a fire with.”
“This storm has taught me a big lesson,” said Ted. “Hereafter we’ll have a shelter for a pile of dry wood, for just such an emergency as this. But don’t forget, Drummer, there are warm blankets for us to wrap around us when we do get there.”
“That is so,” the other realized, brightening. “That will help a lot.”
They hurried away from the big rock and made their way to the best of their belief toward their camp. They had not gone very far, however, before Bob cried out in dismay.