“It’s too late to try that now, for I can hear the rain coming down the river, and we’d be right in the worst of the storm. Stay where you are, Roger; I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Dick may not have known just what a “jiffy” was, but he certainly made pretty quick time of it, after finding that the horses were standing under the cottonwood trees, with their tails toward the coming storm, as horses, and indeed all animals of their type, are wont to do.
“Whew! it’s right on us; and such a roar as the wind and rain make, as they come rushing down the river,” Dick said, as he crawled once more under the rocky roof, and joined his anxious companion.
“Anyhow, I’m glad we can swim,” Roger remarked, showing that he was still thinking of a possible flood, and the fact that their position on the island placed them in a serious predicament in case the river rose rapidly, so as to cover the highest point, which was not many feet above the spot where they had camped.
There was really no time for further exchange of words. With a rush and a roar that were appalling, the storm burst upon them. They could hear the rain beating down in torrents, while the thunder crashed until the island seemed to shake under the heavy reverberations, and the lightning kept up a constant flashing that dazzled their eyes.
And yet there was a sort of fascination about the play of the storm that riveted their attention, so that they could not drag their eyes away, but, crouching there, continued to gaze, spell-bound.
Both boys thought more than once how fortunate it was that the rocky ledge under which they had found shelter for their bodies, as well as their few belongings, chanced to face in an opposite direction from that in which the storm was coming.
Had it been otherwise they must have been drenched to the skin; for the driving wind would have sent the heavy sheets of falling rain far under their cover.