The wisdom of Rough-and-Ready's plan of action was soon proved. One night, thunder awoke them from sleep. The thunder that breaks over the housetops, and the lightning that flashes in at the window-panes of a populous city, are very different from what are heard and seen in mountain ranges and great wastes of forests. Nature seems to be toned down in the city; in the forests and mountains she is grandly beautiful in repose, terrifically beautiful in travail. The thunder-peals were so loud and awful, that the women and child lay clasping each other in speechless fear. Like savage Titans the sound swept down upon them, and rushed through the forests and over the mountains and into them in search of echoes. The lightning darted upon the trees, and ran along the branches, and leaped through the woods into the bowels of the earth. Every thing that lived in stream and woodland, in rocky range and dark lagoon, sought shelter from the storm, of which Sound was but the herald. Presently it came, the swift rush of waters, like a second deluge, filling the creeks and rivers, and flooding all the land. Great torrents rushed down the mountainside into the low land, sweeping all before them. The storm raged the whole night through, abating slightly when morning dawned. It was well for the castaways that they had a little food stored by, for they could not go out in search of any. The second night the women begged the men to stay with them; so they all occupied the women's gunyah, lying side by side in the dark, and whispering to each other little words of comfort. All but Rachel Homebush, who was struck dumb by fear. The second night's storm was more terrific than the first, and about midnight so tremendous a peal of thunder broke over them, that they started up in dread. "Who screamed?" asked Rough-and Ready. But his voice was not heard; and swift upon the heels of the thunder another vivid lightning-flash, instantly followed by a terrific burst of thunder, darted through the gunyah, and struck them blind for many moments. Then, during a slight lull, Rough-and-Ready asked again,-- "Who screamed?" "Not I," said Joshua. "Nor I," said the sailmaker. The women did not speak. Joshua's heart beat with a new fear as he whispered,-- "Minnie! Minnie! speak to me. You are not hurt?" And tears of thankfulness came into his eyes as Minnie answered in a trembling voice,-- "No Joshua; I am only frightened. Let me hold your hand." "Where's the child?" he asked. "Rachel has her. Rachel! Rachel!" No voice replied. Thoroughly alarmed, they called to her again and again, and to the child, but could not rouse them. They were in the deepest darkness. Presently Rough-and-Ready said, "Hush! we must wait for the light." They waited for the light, and by the first faint glimmer they saw Rachel and the child lying down peacefully, the woman with the child folded in her arms. Light had come to them before the others!