"That flash must have struck close by," he exclaimed.
So it had, for the next gleam showed him the gigantic trunk of the withered tree splintered through near the earth, its whitened stem, with its drapery of vines, toppling over to come down with a great crash upon the mound above which it so long had stood sentinel.
The next instant all was densely dark, for the rain came down in sheets, and all other sounds except that of the thunder were drowned in the roar of a great wind. Cal Evans had come into that forest to witness a hurricane.
Chapter XXXII.
UNDER A FALLEN TREE.
Cal had been all day in a chaparral without water, and he knew by experience how very dry an alkali desert could be, whether under a hot sun or a brilliant moon. He had seen sudden storms before, for he was a ranch-boy, and there are wonders of electricity and rain at times upon the plains. Up to the moment when the hurricane struck the tree-tops, however, he had never fully understood what could be done by wind and water and thunder and lightning, at their very best working strength, working together. No wonder a poor cougar should be in a hurry to get under safe cover if he had any clear idea that all this was coming.
As for the trees, the healthy ones stood up to it admirably. They had all been through hurricanes time and again, and were, moreover, something of a protection to each other. Any tree whose strength had at all been sapped by internal decay, however, or which had failed to send out roots in due proportion to its height, was in more or less danger. Every now and then the crash of some old forest prince made Cal look up at the trees near him to see how they were doing. Crooked Nose crouched upon the ground in silence, not looking at anything. The trunk behind which they were partly sheltered was apparently worthy of especial confidence, it was so very thick and seemed so completely beyond the power of any wind to break.
"If any tree can stand it, this will," said Cal to Crooked Nose.