CHAPTER XXIII.
A HURRICANE ON THE MOUNTAIN.
The party watched the oncoming of the storm with anxiety, for they felt that a downpour on the top of that high mountain would be no light affair.
Danny had began to build a fire preparatory to cooking the evening meal, but now old Jacob stopped him.
"There is an overhanging cliff," he said, pointing with his long finger. "We had better look for shelter there afore we think of eating."
"You are right," said Robert Menden. "This coming storm may prove what the boys would call a corker."
They took up their traps, which had been hidden in the brush while they were in the cave, and set off for the cliff which loomed up less than quarter of a mile away. It was a difficult road, through brush and creeping vines and over rough rocks, and before it was finished, the big raindrops were beginning to patter down on the broad tropical leaves.
"Here's a pretty good place," said Dick, pointing to a hollowed-out spot eight or more feet in depth. There were several wild plantains in front of it, and it certainly looked a very good shelter.
"I can't make no fire here," said Danny. "De rain will put it out in no time."
"Build up close to the rocks, Danny," replied Don. "Here, I will show you;" and soon they had a fairly good blaze started, and Danny placed some water to boil.
By this time the storm was on them in all of its fury. The rain came down in sheets, so that they could not see fifty feet in front of them. The wind made the trees groan and creak as it swayed them in one direction or another.