"I guess this is as good a place as any, Phil," remarked Dave, when he
had regained his breath sufficiently to speak.
"It won't be much protection if it rains hard," grumbled the shipowner's
son.
"Well, I don't see that we can do better."
"Neither do I."
Further conversation was cut off by the wind and the rain. The former
shrieked and whistled through the woods, sending down branch after
branch with tremendous crashes that awed the boys completely. The rain
was light, but the drops were large and hit them with stinging force.
For fully half an hour the blow continued, and then it appeared to let
up and the rain stopped entirely.
"Shall we go on?" questioned Phil, standing up and trying to pierce the
darkness around them.
"Better hold up a while, Phil," answered Dave. "This is as safe a spot
as any, with the wind blowing down the trees all around us."
They waited, and it was well that they did so, for presently the wind
started to whistle once more, growing louder and louder. A small tree
branch came down on them, and then came a crash that made them both
jump.
"It's coming this way!" yelled Phil. "The tree behind the rocks!"
"Get down!" cried Dave, and threw himself flat.
Both boys crouched as low as possible.
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