"Yes, that's it."
"I did notice something like that," admitted his brother, "but I didn't think it was anything. It's growing worse, though."
"You're right, it is. Let's ask the men and old Gabe if they feel it. Why, it's just like an electric battery now."
The boys looked at each other curiously and in some alarm. They were both now conscious of a very peculiar sensation. Their flesh all over was tingling as if tiny needles were being brushed against them.
"Do you notice anything queer, Gabe?" asked Will.
"Queer!" exclaimed the miner. "I should say I did. It feels like ginger ale tastes."
"That's it," remarked one of the men. "I was wondering what was the matter with me."
The miners and the boys were ill at ease. There seemed to be something strange in the air about them—some unseen influence at work. They looked all around. The storm was evidently coming closer. The wind was now blowing quite a gale, and there were occasional mutterings of thunder.
"The horses feel it, too," observed Ted. "I don't like it here. I wish we'd kept on, or else stopped down below."
Hardly had he spoken than there came a vivid flash of lightning, followed an instant later by a startling clap of thunder. But it was not the lightning which caused every one in the camp to jump sharply. Nor was it the thunder.