After darkness had set in the boys scanned the mountains for the light of a campfire, but there was no light to be seen. The Pony Rider Boys’ campfire, however, was blazing up brightly, they having built up a large fire on purpose to attract the attention of the men who had made the smoke signals from the low mountain peak, low in comparison with the ten and fifteen thousand feet ranges about them. The boys turned in at midnight, a late hour for 172them, and were sound asleep within two minutes thereafter. They were aroused an hour later by the most terrifying roar they had ever listened to.
“What’s the matter?” cried Tad, springing from his tent, trying to pierce the darkness with his gaze.
“Is–is the world coming to an end?” yelled Ned.
“I guess the mountain is falling down,” shouted Stacy.
“Guide, guide!” roared the Professor.
Anvik, drawing his blanket still more closely about him, stepped over and threw some fresh sticks on the fire. The roaring by this time had become a thunderous, crashing noise that fairly deafened them. One had to shout to make himself heard. Fine particles, like sharp stones, began raining down upon them, stinging the faces, causing the boys to shield their eyes with their arms. Stacy, in alarm, ran and hid in the tent; the others stood their ground, yet not knowing what second they might be caught in what seemed to them to be a great upheaval of nature.
“It’s an earthquake,” shouted Ned Rector.
Stacy heard the words in a brief lull. The fat boy burst from his tent yelling like a wild Indian.
173“An earthquake! Oh, wow, wow, wow! We’ll all be shot to pieces. Oh, help!”
Tad grabbed the boy by a shoulder, giving him a good shaking.