Teddy’s prophecy came true.
They did camp that night on the shore of White Fish Bay. A suitable place was found where above a sandy beach a high bank offered good inducements.
But the boys were not taking chances. While the sun went down in a golden and rosy mass of color, who could say that they might not be visited by one of those sudden electrical storm which during the summer sweep over the great lake, making it dangerous for any small boat to be out.
So the boys not only took extra precautions to fasten their tent down securely; but with considerable trouble they even brought both canoes up the high bank and fastened them, bottoms up, with ropes.
Never did they feel better repaid for their labor.
About half way between midnight and dawn a crash of thunder aroused them. Hurrying out, after dressing they found black clouds sweeping down from the northwest. Already the little waves were breaking on the beach below. Had they simply drawn the canoes out of the water and left them there, doubtless this would have been a period of more or less anxiety concerning the welfare of the small craft.
As it was, all they had to do now was to rope down the canvas a little more securely, and then await the coming of the squall.
It was what Dolph called a “screamer.”
The rain was carried on a howling wind that must have come across that big body of water from the Canada side at the rate of fifty miles an hour.
Fortunately the tent had some protection from this fierce wind, since they had erected it just back of a large granite rock. And while the rain beat down in a flood not to speak of the spray that dashed twenty feet in the air, as the great waves slapped up against the rocks back of the now covered beach—in spite of all this the Khaki colored tent did not leak a single drop.