“We had better look for some safe place to stay before it breaks,” counseled Captain Sparhawk. “A hurricane in the jungle is a serious matter. Trees are rooted up and struck by lightning and in the forest it is very dangerous for anyone to be caught by such a storm.”
“Me findee place,” said Salloo, and struck off down a dim trail leading toward the river. “Follow me, evelybody, and hully up.”
They needed no urging. The gloom and quiet of the forest was overawing. It had begun to get on their nerves. Under Salloo’s guidance they soon found themselves at a great mass of rocks on a high bank overlooking the river. The great masses of stone were piled in such a way that the crevices among them formed regular caves.
“We getee in here,” said Salloo, indicating the largest of them. “I send my men in annuder one.”
“I’m not going in there,” declared Donald, “there might be snakes or wild beasts inside.”
“You’d better come in or be blown away,” said Captain Sparhawk.
He had hardly spoken, before the storm broke in all its fury. Donald, with a cry of alarm, followed the others into shelter.
“Gracious, this beats anything I ever saw, even that storm off the Pamatous,” shouted Jack, above the shrieking of the wind.
“Him blow more big bimeby,” said Salloo, “him big storm this. You see.”
The trees swayed violently, and before long, from their shelter, they saw a big one torn up by the roots and hurtled from the bank into the river. The wind grew more violent. The dark air was filled with flying branches, leaves and sticks. Birds, large and small, were swept by, powerless to contend with the furious gale. Donald was crouched back in a far corner of their shelter, too frightened to do anything more than mumble and whimper.