With little cessation the storm had held forth. At times Phil, lying awake because it was impossible to get the clamor out of his mind, wondered if there would be any decent-sized trees left in the North Woods by the time things settled down quiet again. He and Ethan were up and busily engaged getting some breakfast ready. It was as much as they could do to see, so dim was the light; and they did not dare use the lantern, because their supply of kerosene was limited. "How'd you like to have been caught out in that whooper, eh, Lub?" asked Ethan, as the other continued to yawn, and rub his reddened eyes, though still occupying his position there on the edge of his berth, X-Ray having crawled out below. "Please excuse me from answering that question," the other replied. "I never'd have survived it, I reckon. Bad enough to be in a dinky little twelve by twelve cabin, let alone a hollow tree, or a make-shift under a shelving rock." "Now, none of your making fun of Birch Bark Lodge," warned X-Ray; "it's been a hunky-dory refuge, all right, don't forget it. And say, not a drop leaked in on us through that bad part in the roof. Shows what a little common-sense can do for things, don't it?" "All I can say," remarked Phil, from over the fire, "is that I'm sorry for any one who might be unlucky enough as to get caught in that howler. If they missed being struck by lightning, they ran a big chance of getting crushed under a falling tree." "Yes," added Ethan, "and at the best they'd be soaked through and through. It's no fun to feel that way all night. You start to shivering, and then like as not your teeth rattle together like you've heard the minstrel end-man shake his bones when he sings. I've had a little experience, and I know what I'm talking about." The man in the lower bunk had been listening to all this conversation. Phil noticed he seemed to have an additional line across his forehead. Perhaps the storm had also kept him awake. Possibly he had often thought of how uncomfortable it would be for any one he happened to know, who might have been caught in the open woods by the howling gale. They were eating breakfast some time later, when the man from his bunk, since he preferred to lie there while so many were around the small cabin, called out to Phil. He had long since recognized the patent fact that the Bradley boy was a leader of his set; and that the other three only too gladly looked up to Phil, not on account of his being independent with regard to means, but because he had the attributes of leadership in his person. "Do you think the storm has slackened for good, Phil, or will it come back again for another siege? It seems to me the wind has changed, and is blowing much more evenly."