"Let go and give him air," commanded Tom. Hippy lay as he had fallen, half on his side, one arm doubled under his head. A red welt across his forehead showed where the blow that felled him had fallen. The reverberating crashes that had shaken the earth were dying out and now seemed much further away than at first. CHAPTER VIII THEIR FIRST DISASTER "Oh, what has happened?" begged Anne tremblingly. "The logs went out," answered Tom briefly. "Di--did a log hit Hippy?" questioned Emma. "I don't know what hit him. Fetch water," directed Tom, who was fanning the unconscious Hippy with his hat. Joe Shafto had run down to the stream and, at this juncture, came up to them with a hatful of water, which she handed to Tom. Grace took Tom's hat from him and did the fanning while her husband was bathing Hippy's face. The rain had become a misty drizzle and the wind had died out entirely, but the trees were dripping moisture that soaked into the clothing of the Overland Riders more effectively than had the downpour of a few moments before. It was nearly half an hour before Lieutenant Wingate regained consciousness, and it was some little time later before he could hold a sitting position, for his head was swimming. "Had we better not get him under his tent?" asked Grace. "If there is a tent left, yes. You folks will remain right here until I return. I am going over to the camp," replied Tom. "Is there danger?" questioned Grace anxiously. "I think not. I shall not be gone more than a few minutes." Tom took his pocket lamp with him, leaving the Overlanders in the dark, for their own lamps were in their packs in the tents. Tom, however, came back inside of fifteen minutes. "How is the camp?" asked Elfreda. "There isn't any camp," answered Tom. "Wha--at?" gasped the Overlanders. "It hit me and went on into the river," groaned Hippy. "Voice of nature," he added in a mutter, but no one laughed. "Our camp was pitched in the travoy way. The storm loosened the supports of the skidway and let the logs down. Several hundred thousand feet of them rolled over our camp and mashed it flat. A good part of the timber went on into the river. The rest of it is scattered all the way along the travoy." "What! All our provisions gone?" wailed Hippy. "No. They were strung up high enough to be out of the way," spoke up Grace. "You are wrong, Grace," differed Tom. "A log must have ended up and broken the rope. At least the rope is broken and most of our supplies appear to have been carried away. We are now back to first principles. We must either go back for fresh supplies or live as the forest wanderer lives, rustling for our grub as we go along. The first thing to be done is to build a fire." "Fine! I should like to see you do that with everything soaking wet," laughed Elfreda. "We shall see," replied Tom. "What we need first of all is light so we may see what we are about."