“Think we’d better wait till it’s over,” Bob asked him.
“Me think so. It coming heap big.”
“Guess he’s right,” Jack declared, as a louder rumble reached their ears.
“And she’s coming mighty fast,” Bob added. “We’d better get the things under cover as soon as we can.”
They quickly carried the canoe well up from the shore, and turning it over, packed all their provisions beneath it.
“Here it comes,” Jack cried, as the big drops began to beat on the bottom of the boat.
Before they could get beneath the boughs of a spruce tree near by, the drops had changed to hail stones, many of them the size of a filbert nut.
“Whow! Those fellows sting,” Rex shouted as he ran for the tree.
“They’re getting the heavy artillery into action up above,” Jack said, as a sharp flash of lightning followed by a heavy crash of thunder lighted up the sky.
Soon the hail changed back to rain, and the water fell almost in sheets.