Flash upon flash, and roar upon roar tumbled over the mountain with that strange rumble peculiar to hills and hollows. Then the rain—
It seemed as if the storm came to the mountain first and lost half the drops before getting farther down. It did pour with a vengeance. Several times Tavia ventured to poke her head out to make weather observations, but each time she was driven unceremoniously back into shelter.
"It must be late!" sighed Dorothy.
"That it must!" agreed her companion, "and we have got to get out of here soon. Rain or no rain, we can't stay here all night. The thunder and lightning is not so bad now. Come on! Let's go!"
Timidly the two girls crept out. But the rain had washed their path away and they could barely take a step where so short a time before they seemed to walk in safety.
"Don't give up!" Tavia urged Dorothy. "We must get to the top."
But the stones would slide away and the young trees, loosed by the heavy rain, would pull up at the roots.
"Try this way," suggested Tavia, taking another line from that which the girls knew ran to the mountain top.
This proved to be safer in footing at least. The rocks did not fall with such force, and the trees were stronger to hold on to.
But where was that path taking them? Both girls shouted continually, hoping to make the others hear, but no welcome answer came back to them.