The provisions had been slung in sacks from a rope strung between two trees, about ten feet above the ground, to keep them out of reach of Henry and other prowling animals.
"How long have you been up?" asked Grace.
"Half an hour or so. I went up to the ridge to the rear of the camp, thinking that I had heard something unusual going on up there, but hurried back when the rain started. What I heard must have been the trees creaking."
They listened to the storm for several minutes, Tom Gray trying to interpret the sounds.
"Awaken the girls!" he directed, acting upon a sudden resolution. "Get them out as quickly as possible." Tom had heard a sound coming from the ridge that stirred him into quick action. "Tell them to fetch the blankets and our rifles. We mustn't lose any of those things."
"Will you call Hippy and Joe?"
"Yes, yes. Hurry!"
"Turn out!" shouted Tom at the opening of Hippy's tent. "Be lively. Blankets and weapons with you."
"Wha—at, in this storm?" wailed Hippy.
"Better get wet than get killed," retorted Tom, springing over to Joe Shafto's tent. Joe answered his hail with a sharp demand to know what he wanted.