The Boy Scouts of Lenox Part 17

The thunder grew louder with every peal. There were vivid flashes of lightning, too, each of which caused Horace to start and close his eyes, though he bravely suppressed the groan that seemed ready to burst from his lips.

Tom, as well as Mr. Witherspoon, Josh and Rob Shaefer, was constantly on the lookout for some sign of shelter. The ground seemed to favor the possibility of finding something in the line of overlapping lines of rock, which, forming a mushroom ledge, would screen them from the violence of the expected downpour.

After all, the honor of making the discovery went to Carl.

"Look over yonder between those bushes, sir; doesn't that seem to be about the kind of place you're after?" he called out, clutching the scout master by the arm.

So impressed was Mr. Witherspoon by what he saw that he immediately directed all of his charges to make for the spot pell-mell. The first big drops were coming down as they arrived, to find that, sure enough, the ledges of stone cropped out as much as six or seven feet.

"Crawl under wherever you can find a good place, and lie quiet!"

ordered the scout master; and in several detachments they proceeded to get out of the rain, now commencing to fall heavily.

The wind rushed through the branches with a furious shriek; the thunder crashed; they heard several trees fall under the strain; and then without warning came a blinding flash, with a terrific ear-splitting roar of thunder accompanying it.

Horace, who with a number of others was in the cavity Tom had chosen, shrank close to the leader of the Black Bear Patrol.

"Oh, Tom!" he cried, when his voice could be heard, "didn't that sound right from where that magnificent big oak tree stood that I wanted to get under?"

"Just what it did!" Josh Kingsley told him, vehemently, while Tom said:

"We'll investigate after the storm is over, Horace; but right now I'm of the opinion your fine oak is lying shattered into fragments by the bolt that fell!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE LANDSLIDE

"Whether that's so or not," said the trembling Horace, "I feel that I've learned a lesson. I own up that I'm terribly afraid of lightning; but after this I'm going to face it, even if I have to lie out in the storm, rather than take chances."

It became difficult to carry on any sort of conversation, what with all the racket around them. The wind blew, the rain fell in sheets, and the thunder boomed so continuously that one deep-toned roll hardly died away before there would come another crash that made everybody start.

Still they were a thankful lot of boys as they lay under the ledges and counted the minutes creep past.

"We've managed to keep our jackets tolerably dry after all," announced Josh, at a time when there happened to be a little slackening of the gale; "and that's what everybody couldn't have done under the same conditions."

"Well, I should say not," another scout declared; "I know lots of fellows who think themselves extra smart around town, and yet put them up here and they'd either have been knocked out hiding under a tree that was struck, or else soaked through to the skin."

"It takes scouts to figure things out when the supreme test comes,"

said Josh.

"Yes, _some_ scouts," added Felix, drily; as much as to tell Josh not to plume himself too highly, because this was not his bright thought.

A more terrific peal of thunder than any they had yet heard except that one outburst, stopped their talking for a brief time.

"I really believe the old storm is coming back to try it all over again!" cried Billy b.u.t.ton, in dismay.

"They often seem to do that," remarked another boy. "That has puzzled me more'n I can tell. What's the explanation, Mr. Witherspoon?"

"Well, as near as I can say," replied the scout master, "it's something like this. Most storms have a regular rotary movement as well as their forward drift. On that account a hurricane at sea has a core or center, where there is almost a dead clam."

"Yes, I've read about that," interrupted Josh. "Sea captains always mention it when they've found themselves in the worst of a big blow.

It slackens up, and then comes on again worse than ever."

"But always from exactly the opposite quarter," the scout master continued.

"You can see how this is, for the wind coming from the east up to the time the core of the gale strikes them, is from the west after the center has pa.s.sed by. We may be about to get the other side of this little storm now."

"Listen to it roaring, up on the mountain?" cried Horace.

"I wonder what those other fellows are doing about now?" Josh was heard to say, in a speculative way.

"Of course you mean Tony Pollock and his crowd," observed Tom. "Unless they've been as lucky as we were they're feeling pretty damp ground this time. Still Tony is a shrewd fellow, and may have discovered some sort of shelter before the downpour came."

"I hope so," Horace went on to say, for he was not at all cruel by disposition; "because I wouldn't want a dog to be out in this blow, much less boys I've known all my life, even if they have been an ugly lot."

There was a short interval of violent downpour. Then all at once the storm again slackened, and soon the rain ceased.

Horace had been whispering to Tom, and the pair of them now started to crawl out from under the shelter.

"Where are you going, Tom?" asked Josh, wondering what the strange move meant.

"Just mean to take a little walk over here," was the reply; "we'll be back in a few minutes. Horace is curious to see if it was the big oak that was struck."

"I'll go along, if you don't object," said the always ready Josh.

"Me too," called out a second scout.

Accordingly several of them followed Tom and Horace out from under the ledges. There were at least six in the group that hurried along toward the spot where the splendid oak had been noticed an hour before.

They were compelled to pick their way along, for little streams of water flowed in almost every direction; besides, the trees were shedding miniature Niagaras that would be very unpleasant if received in the back of the neck by any one pa.s.sing underneath.

In this fas.h.i.+on they neared the place. Every boy was keenly on the lookout.

"Why, I don't see anything at all of the tree, and yet it certainly stood high above those smaller ones over there!" exclaimed Horace, presently, with a curious little quiver of awe in his voice.

Ten seconds later they had advanced far enough to pa.s.s the barrier formed by those lesser forest trees. Then the entire group of scouts came to a sudden stop and simply stared. Horace even rubbed his eyes as if he half believed he might be dreaming.

The big oak was gone!

Where it had stood they saw a shattered trunk not more than twenty feet high. Upon the ground in every direction lay torn and twisted limbs and smaller branches, just as they had been violently hurled when that terrible electric bolt struck with such amazing force.

"Whew!" gasped Josh, "there's an object lesson for you, Horace!"

"It's the same for each one of us," added Tom, gravely; "and for every scout who ever hears of it."