“If we go to the top,” I ventured to say, “we must be going;” and again the dry moss rustled beneath our feet. We had not gone far before dark clouds began to scud over the sky, portending a sudden storm.
“Had we not better return?” I asked.
“We are much nearer the top than the bottom of the mountain,” said Mr. Kirby. “If a storm should come, it would reach us before we could get half way down. You are not afraid of a storm, Marston.”
“Not of mere rain; but this is no place as to the wind, to say nothing of thunder and lightning.”
“All these are in His keeping. We are the objects of his love.” He had hardly finished speaking, when a fearful gale swept down the mountain, and nearly bore us away with it. The rain quickly followed, while the thunder was startling, with its quick, sharp reports, then rolling along in one continued roar till lost in the distance.
“This will not last long,” said Mr. Kirby, and took shelter under a great rock, drawing me after him. How long we stood there I hardly know, for the dense mass of black clouds floating so near us, carried swiftly by the winds, rolling and unrolling their rugged edges, fringed with the lurid glare, was the most fascinating spectacle that I had ever witnessed.
After explaining to me the different strata of the atmosphere and some of the causes of this sudden change in the clouds, Mr. Kirby spoke of that great day of storm and dread, when there would be some to cry for the mountains to cover them from the wrath of the Lamb, and others to whom He would be as the shelter of a great rock.
Then we stepped out from under the rock. The shower was over, and we again advanced. For a time the ascent was more precipitous than any that we had met before, while the wet boughs, brushing against our faces, would have seriously disturbed a less persevering spirit than Mr. Kirby’s.
Among the remembrances of that day were the tiny pools and cascades, filled to overflowing during the shower. Then there were spots of soft green beds of beautiful moss, and short, steep acclivities, such as would hardly afford footing for the chamois or gazelle.