On the particular night on which Will had his grumble it poured with rain, and the canvas getting saturated, the water soon began to leak through. Jack and Will wrapped their cloaks round them to keep some of the rain off, and so inured to hardships were they that they managed to sleep.
About five o’clock, however, they were both awakened by the streams of water which flowed underneath the flaps of the tent and were saturating them. Cold and miserable, they both sat up, listening to the wind howling through the camp. It got louder and louder; the sides of the tent began to rise and flutter, the rain driving right into the lads’ faces. The cords creaked and the pole began to bend.
‘Blest if I don’t think the lot’ll come down directly,’ said Will.
‘No fear,’ replied Jack; ‘it’s weathered as bad before; this pole is very strong.’
The wind simply shrieked, while the rain was dashed in sheets upon the side of the tent.
‘It certainly is violent,’ said Jack. ‘I’ve heard they get bad storms here, but’——
Snap—crash! the pole of the tent had broken off close to the ground, and Jack and Will were struggling under a heap of wet, cold canvas. Painfully, and at considerable risk, they fought their way out, and at last stood erect.
Heavens, what a sight met their gaze! Nearly every tent was down; many were being whirled sky-high in the blast; others covered the struggling forms of their former occupants. Men in every state of dress and undress were to be seen, some trying to chase their belongings, others having as much as they could do to stand up against the blast, many only staring blankly at each other. All round was a sea of mud; this was picked up by the wind, and being whirled along soon covered everybody and everything with a wet, freezing coating of earth.
Everything that Jack and Will possessed was under the wreck of their tent, and they fought manfully to rescue some of their things. Jack at last got his boots; but he had to sit down in mud almost to his waist to put them on. His fur-jacket, spoil from the convoy at Mackenzie’s Farm, he also got, and his dress-cap. Will rescued part of his things too; then the wind picked up the tent and whirled it away.
Tentless, Jack and Will looked around them. A captain of Hussars, in his shirt only, was tearing after a pair of overalls, which he at last captured only to find they were not his own. Men everywhere were chasing articles, while the air was filled with headdresses, caps, coats, wet blankets, even pieces of furniture from the officers’ tents.