THE STORM
Prancing, and an inclination on the part of the horses to bolt and
run, kept the lads and their friends busy for a few moments after the
crash. There was no chance for the boys to ask Tinny what he meant by
his rather ominous words. But when the reverberations had died away,
echoing and reëchoing among the mountain peaks, Jerry spoke up and
called above the rush of wind:
“Is this a bad place to be in a storm?”
“There are worse places, only I don’t know ’em,” answered Tinny grimly.
“I’d a good bit prefer being on any side of Thunder Mountain but this
when the storm really bursts. But we’ll make the best speed we can, and
maybe we can get out of the danger zone.”
“What specially makes it so dangerous here?” asked Ned.
Before Tinny could answer there flashed another vivid spear of
lightning, followed by a crash louder than the first big one, and again
they had to hold their horses in check.
“He said when the storm _breaks_!” murmured Bob, who was bouncing about
on the back of his animal like a cork on troubled waters. “I wonder
what he calls this?”
“This isn’t anything--just the beginning,” Tinny answered. “And while I
don’t know exactly why this slope of Thunder Mountain is worse than the
others, I think it must be because of iron or some metallic ores here
more than anywhere else. I know that lightning strikes here oftener
than anywhere else. That’s why it has the name Thunder Mountain.”
“Lightning Mountain would be a better name,” said Jerry, as another
flash, vivid and menacing, shot across the low-lying clouds.
The jagged streak of electricity seemed to bury itself in the side of
the mountain not far from the party and there followed such a crash as
seemed to shake the very earth. The horses actually cowered down, too
frightened to run.
“That struck somewhere!” exclaimed Ned, in the silence that followed
the awful crash.
“I reckon it did,” said Cromley. “I’ve seen storms out here before, but
when it gets going and makes up its mind, this is going to put it all
over the worst I ever saw.”
“Well, if it’s going to get any worse hadn’t we better do something
more than talk about it?” asked Jerry.
“I’m looking for a place of shelter,” Tinny remarked. “The worst of it
is, though, that when there’s so much ore scattered about, one place is
as bad as another to attract the lightning. But come on.”
After those first few flashes of lightning and terrific crashes the
storm seemed to die away; but they all knew it was but a momentary
passing, as if to enable the elements to gather strength for a worse
outburst. However, even this brief respite gave them a chance to make
better time down the mountain trail, for the horses were less inclined
to throw their riders and gallop off by themselves.
The sun had begun to sink in the west some time before the first
signs of storm were noticed, and now, with the fading of day and the
overcasting of the sky with black clouds, the scene was fast darkening.
Only one thing was in favor of the travelers, and that was that the
trail at this point was broad and easy of travel, though it was steep.
“Is there any particular place you’re heading for?” asked Jerry, as he
urged his steed alongside that of Tinny Mallison.
“Yes,” was the answer. “About two miles from here there’s an old cabin
just off the trail. It was once owned by a mining company I invested
some money in. Invested was all it ever amounted to, for the claim
petered out. But the cabin still stands; or did several months ago
when I was last over this trail. If we can get there we can be well
sheltered and comparatively safe from lightning shocks.”
“Do you think there is any danger from lightning?” asked Jerry.
“There certainly is,” Tinny answered.
The comparative quiet that had prevailed for a few minutes was once
more broken by a low rumbling that told of distant thunder.
“Look out, boys! She’s going to break loose again!” called Ned,
clapping his heels against the side of his horse and sprinting forward.
His words had hardly died away before the vicious lightning again
hissed through the air like some gigantic whip swung by a Titanic
teamster, and what corresponded to the crack of the whip was the sharp
sound of the thunder.
That is all it was at first--a sharp crack, hardly louder than that a
high-powered rifle would have given forth. But it was followed with
terrifying rapidity by a great crash.
Cromley’s horse leaped to one side with such suddenness that the miner
was unseated, and some one would have been compelled to walk the
remainder of the journey had not Ned urged his own horse forward to
catch the runaway. For that is what the miner’s animal became as soon
as the saddle was empty.
“Good work, Ned!” cried Jerry, as the lad quieted the frightened animal.
“Are you hurt, Bill?” asked Tinny.
The old miner slowly rose, rubbed one leg and then the other.
“No, I reckon not,” he answered slowly. The old man was game, whatever
else he lacked. Slowly he got into the saddle again, and then he grimly
remarked, as the echoes of the thunder died away: “Guess I’d done
better to be tied to the horse again, same as I was when the Nixon
crowd had me.”
“You’ve got to keep a tight rein on your horse every time it lightens,”
said Tinny. “They’re sure to jump at each clap, and if you’re not ready
for ’em you’ll land on your neck. I wish we were at that cabin!”
The others felt the same way about it, and their uneasiness was not
lessened when they saw Tinny looking apprehensively up at the clouds
which were now thicker and blacker than ever.
“If the storm would break--I mean if the rain would come--it wouldn’t
be so bad,” Jerry said.
“What do you mean--not so bad?” asked Ned. “We’ll get drenched when it
starts--no umbrellas, no raincoats, nothing.”
“I mean there’ll be less danger from lightning when it starts to rain,”
went on the tall lad.
“Jerry is right,” Tinny added, as they moved forward again with
lightning playing about them and a continuous mutter of thunder at
times muffling their words. “Once the ground and trees are soaking
wet, it makes so many more natural paths for the lightning to take.
It diffuses itself all over gradually, instead of the tension being
relieved in one big gigantic crack. And if you’ve ever noticed it, your
nerves calm down in a thunderstorm as soon as the rain starts. It’s the
same way with animals. Our horses will be easier to manage as soon as
everything gets well wet.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” replied Bob. “We had lots of rain in France,
too.”
“Gosh, I should say so!” agreed Ned. “Never a day without a shower, as
I remember it.”
“Well, this is going to be more than a shower, and it’s coming pretty
soon,” observed Tinny. “However, we’ve only got about a mile more to go
and we’ll be at the old cabin. I only hope it’s still standing.”
“Is there room for the horses in it?” asked Bill.
“There used to be a shed back of the cabin where they kept the
animals,” Tinny replied. “Whew!” he cried. “This is going to be a bad
one!”
Following sharply on his words was a sheet of lightning that
temporarily blinded them, so vivid was it. Instinctively they all
reined in their horses.
The resultant clap of thunder veritably stunned them all, while a
sensation as of pins and needles pricked their hands and feet and ran
up along their spines, causing a queer sensation in their scalps.
Just ahead of them a great rock was rent in twain by the lightning bolt
which struck it, and the ground about them seemed to tremble. They had
actually felt the stunning effect of the shattering lightning.
“Whew! Smell the sulphur!” cried Bob.
The odor was noticeable in the air.
The wind had died down for a moment, but now it suddenly sprang into
being again, and with its howl came a curious pattering sound.
“Here comes the rain!” cried Tinny. “Now it will be better!”
Down came a great deluge of water. Ned, who was slightly in the lead,
urged his horse forward. The others were about to follow when they saw
Ned suddenly disappear from sight off the trail, as if he had fallen
into some hole.
“Ned! Ned!” cried Jerry. “What happened?”