A low growl of distant thunder followed the guide’s words, and the men pulled with additional energy; while the slow, measured hiss of the water, and the clank of oars, as they cut swiftly through the lake’s clear surface, alone interrupted the dead silence that ensued.
Charley and his friend conversed in low whispers; for there is a strange power in a thunderstorm, whether raging or about to break, that overawes the heart of man,—as if Nature’s God were nearer then than at other times; as if He—whose voice indeed, if listened to, speaks even in the slightest evolution of natural phenomena—were about to tread the visible earth with more than usual majesty, in the vivid glare of the lightning flash, and in the awful crash of thunder.
“I don’t know how it is, but I feel more like a coward,” said Charley, “just before a thunderstorm than I think I should do in the arms of a polar bear. Do you feel queer, Harry?”
“A little,” replied Harry, in a low whisper; “and yet I’m not frightened. I can scarcely tell what I feel, but I’m certain it’s not fear.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Charley. “When father’s black bull chased Kate and me in the prairies, and almost overtook us as we ran for the fence of the big field, I felt my heart leap to my mouth, and the blood rush to my cheeks, as I turned about and faced him, while Kate climbed the fence; but after she was over, I felt a wild sort of wickedness in me, as if I should like to tantalise and torment him,—and I felt altogether different from what I feel now while I look up at these black clouds. Isn’t there something quite awful in them, Harry?”
Ere Harry replied, a bright flash of lightning shot athwart the sky, followed by a loud roar of thunder, and in a moment the wind rushed, like a fiend set suddenly free, down upon the boats, tearing up the smooth surface of the water as it flew, and cutting it into gleaming white streaks. Fortunately the storm came down behind the boats, so that, after the first wild burst was over, they hoisted a small portion of their lug sails, and scudded rapidly before it.
There was still a considerable portion of the traverse to cross, and the guide cast an anxious glance over his shoulder occasionally, as the dark waves began to rise, and their crests were cut into white foam by the increasing gale. Thunder roared in continued, successive peals, as if the heavens were breaking up, while rain descended in sheets. For a time the crews continued to ply their oars; but as the wind increased, these were rendered superfluous. They were taken in, therefore, and the men sought partial shelter under the tarpaulin; while Mr Park and the two boys were covered, excepting their heads, by an oilcloth, which was always kept at hand in rainy weather.
“What think you now, Louis?” said Mr Park, resuming the pipe which the sudden outburst of the storm had caused him to forget. “Have we seen the worst of it?”
Louis replied abruptly in the negative, and in a few seconds shouted loudly, “Look out, lads! here comes a squall. Stand by to let go the sheet there!”
Mike Brady, happening to be near the sheet, seized hold of the rope, and prepared to let go; while the men rose, as if by instinct, and gazed anxiously at the approaching squall, which could be seen in the distance extending along the horizon, like a bar of blackest ink, spotted with flakes of white. The guide sat with compressed lips, and motionless as a statue, guiding the boat as it bounded madly towards the land, which was now not more than half a mile distant.