“And I agree with every word you say, Roger,” his companion added.
“How is the night going, do you know?” continued the other.
“I’m sure I can hardly say, Roger. At a guess I might venture to say that we may have something like two hours more of darkness.”
“Then all I hope is the storm will peter out before dawn, so we can start for the river right away. We ought to come upon the expedition by evening, unless we get lost, and that is something not likely to happen to boys like us, who have lived in the woods since they were knee-high to grasshoppers.”
“One thing sure, we have had all the sleep we’re going to get to-night,” Dick remarked.
“It seems to me the rain has slackened some. At least, it doesn’t make such a terrible noise when it strikes the trees. But there was a pretty lively wind blowing, Dick, and I think I heard more than one tree crash down before the gale.”
“Yes,” added the other. “And this old wreck did some groaning, too. Once I was in a sweat thinking it might go toppling over; but the other trees must have protected it some, for it stood through the wild storm.”
When Roger hazarded the opinion that the gale was abating he spoke the truth, for in a short time it became manifest that the thunder came from a more distant point, the lightning was not so brilliant, and the rain itself began to fall more lightly.
In fact, things took on such a different tone that Roger actually settled himself down to try for a little more sleep.
Dick had been too thoroughly aroused to think of doing this. He continued to sit there, keeping a vigil on the crack, through which he knew he would catch the first glimpse of breaking day. He amused himself while sitting thus by letting his thought go back to the happy home far down the “Big Muddy,” where his father and his mother, his little brother Sam, and his grandparents besides, occupied the big cabin in the clearing, close to the one where Roger’s parents lived.