Soon the sails were drawing once more, and away they sped, the wind sending up the whitecaps all around them. The bow of the Elizabeth was covered with flying spray, so that the young lumbermen had to shift from this point of observation. The captain looked at his barometer and saw that it was falling rapidly.
"We are up against it now," said one of the deck hands to Dale. "If I aint mistaken we'll be lucky if we don't lose some of the cargo."
"Do you mean that we are going to have a storm?"
"That's what—and a heavy one, too."
The sky was growing dark rapidly, and when the sun went under the clouds the lake turned a deep green, ominous to look upon. Sails were trimmed with speed, and the chains holding the deck cargo were carefully inspected. Then came a sudden blow that sent the wind whirling through all parts of the schooner.
"Better go below, you two!" shouted the captain. "'Taint safe up here for landsmen. You might be washed overboard."
"I'll risk it," answered Owen.
"And so will I," added Dale, and both held fast to the rail of the companionway.
Not long after this the captain ordered everything but the mainsail taken in. The big sheet was reefed, just enough canvas being left up to give the schooner headway. The wind was now whistling a perfect gale.
"This is worse than that storm in the forest!" cried Dale, as the spray flew all over the deck.