"You had better hurry then," observed Clay. "I believe it's going to rain. The air feels sultry, and there isn't a star in sight."
Almost as he spoke a sullen peal of thunder echoed among the hills, and an instant later a jagged flash of lightning blazed on the surface of the creek.
The boys huddled a little closer together and nervously discussed the situation. A storm was bad enough when they had a snug tent to shelter them, but in their present plight, adrift on the water in pitch darkness, there was no telling what disaster might happen.
"I wish I was home," said Nugget. "I'm awfully afraid of thunder and lightning."
No one laughed at this candid confession. The occasion was too serious for mirth.
"I hardly know what would be best to do," began Ned. "If there is going to be much lightning we will be safer on the water than among the trees on shore. But here comes a gale, if I'm not mistaken. That will make things lively for us."
Ned's prediction was correct. The trees on shore suddenly began to rustle and creak. The water was lashed into short, choppy waves, which turned to white capped billows as the wind waxed stronger. It was evident that this part of the creek occupied an exposed position.
"Keep your canoes trim," shouted Ned. "The wind will drop as soon as the rain comes."
It is doubtful if his companions heard the warning. The force of the tempest had already driven the canoes apart.
For two or three minutes Ned was tossed about at will, momentarily expecting his frail craft to upset. He could see no trace of his companions in the darkness, and when he shouted the roar of the gale almost drowned his voice.