Dan went down to the water’s edge to wash his hands. The river looked very dark and menacing, an indication that a storm might be brewing.
Overhead, black clouds were traveling rapidly across the sky.
“Storm’s coming up fast,” Dan thought uneasily. “I hope the Cubs get back before it breaks!”
Even as he straightened up from washing his hands, a strong breath of air stirred the trees. Waves began to pile up on the beach.
Fearful that the canoe might be washed away, Dan pulled it farther back on shore.
Unexpectedly, a great gust of wind swept the beach. Sand was flung in Dan’s face, causing him to cough and choke.
The wind blew hard for a minute or two and then subsided. A few large drops of rain splashed down.
Deciding to seek the shelter of the hogan, Dan scrambled up the slope to the camp.
Pausing an instant to catch his breath, he gazed down on the cleared square of beach where only a few minutes before he had completed the sand painting.
A gasp of dismay escaped his lips. For where the picture had been, there was now only a hodge-podge of wildly mixed colors!