Silently they began the descent. Jane found it much easier than she had supposed and before long they were on the stage road which zigzagged downward. They had not gone far when Jane said: “What a queer color the sunlight is becoming.” She turned to look toward the west and uttered an exclamation. “Meg!” she cried, unconsciously using the mountain girl’s Christian name, “the sun looks like a ball of orange fire and the mountain range is being hidden by a yellow haze. What can it mean?”
“It means that a summer storm is brewing. Let us make haste. We will soon be under the shelter of the pines and just below them is the Crazy Creek camp. We will keep dry in one of the old cabins. These sudden storms, though often cloudbursts, are of short duration.”
There was a weird light under the great old pines, but in the spaces between they saw that clouds were rapidly gathering close above them. Then a vivid flash of lightning almost blinded them. Instantly it was followed by a crash of thunder which seemed to make the very mountain rock. Big drops of rain could be heard pelting among the trees, though few of them could be felt because of the densely interwoven branches. Meg drew her companion close to one of the great old trunks.
“It isn’t safe under trees, is it?” Jane’s face was white with fear. Her companion’s matter-of-fact voice calmed her. “As safe as it is anywhere,” she commented. “It won’t last five minutes and we won’t be much wet.”
The flashes of lightning and crashes of thunder were incessant and the road out of which they had scrambled became for a moment a raging torrent. “I’ve been struck,” Jane cried out. “I know I have! I feel the electricity pulling at my hair.”
Again the calm voice: “You are all right. That is because we are so near the cloud. The air is charged with electricity.”
The storm was gone as quickly as it had come, but there was a roaring, rushing noise near. “That’s the Crazy Creek. It floods for a few moments after every cloudburst. Quick now, let’s make for the shelter of a cabin. The camp is just below here.” Meg fairly dragged Jane out from under the pines. The light was brighter and the Eastern girl saw beneath her a scene of desolation, but before she could clearly define it, Meg had dragged her into an old log cabin. There was a joyous cry from within. It was Gerald shouting, “Meg, you’ve come. I knew you would.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
A RECONCILIATION
The small boy, ignoring Jane, sprang toward the mountain girl and dragged her into the cabin. On the floor lay Julie, her cheeks wet with tears, her eyes dulled with suffering.
With a glad cry Jane leaped into the darkened room and was about to take the small girl in her arms, but Julie turned away and held her hands out toward Meg, when to their surprise Jane sank down in a worn-out heap on the floor and began to sob bitterly.