The wind increased rapidly, and soon it
grew so dark they could see little or nothing under the thickest of the
trees. They came to an open space, and there the wind struck them with
great force, almost hurling them flat.
"Say, I think--we had--had better wait a--a bit!" panted Phil, as he
clutched Dave by the arm.
"Let us get over to yonder rocks," answered Dave. "We'll be a little
safer there than between the trees."
Hand in hand the chums crossed the glade and made for a series of rocks
looming between the trees beyond. The wind was now blowing with almost
tornado force, and with it came a few scattering drops of rain. Just as
they gained the rocks something whizzed past their heads.
"What was that?" gasped Phil, ducking after the object had passed.
"It was a small tree limb," answered Dave. "We've got to watch out.
Hark!"
They listened, and above the whistling of the wind heard a great crash.
"It's a tree being blown down!" cried Phil. "Come on, let us get between
the rocks, before something hits us on the head!"
Much alarmed, both boys leaped for the shelter of the rocks, and in the
darkness felt their way until they reached a split that was seven or
eight feet deep and a foot wide at the bottom and twice that at the top.
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