Not understanding the danger, the boys could not help seeing that it was real, by the old man's manner, and the speed with which he darted back along the trail. As he passed 'Cradle,' Snap noticed that that intelligent beast turned of his own accord and followed his human companions. As they ran, another faint wind came, and another half-dozen great trees thundered down, and one of them right across the path between Dick and his friends. One of its boughs flew up and struck Frank across the face, leaving a long black mark and drawing a bright stream of blood. For a moment the boys recoiled aghast; but Wharton's voice woke them to a fresh effort. 'Run, run, tear and ages! _will_ you run?' he shrieked, and one after another the boys scrambled over the carcase of the great tree and reached Dick's side. Dick was on his knees beside the hole from which he had extricated Snap. The good old fellow, though he knew the danger, meant to see everyone else safe before he thought of himself. 'Here, young 'un,' he cried to Towzer, 'get hold of my fist. Now then, down you go,' and he lowered the boy as far as he could into the hole. 'Let go and drop,' he cried. 'Are you all right?' he added. 'All right,' said Towzer's voice from somewhere beneath their feet. 'Now then, Frank,' said Dick; and one after another he let the boys down, and a moment after dropped down amongst them. 'Great Scott! how it shakes the wind out of you,' he muttered, picking himself up, 'I didn't know it was so far.' Just then a peal of thunder drowned their voices, and after it came the rain in torrents, driven by a perfect gale of wind. Even where the boys were the rain came in bucketfuls, and the red lightning lit up their subterranean shelter until they could see the black logs above their heads, like the gigantic beams in some old English hall. But the loud thunder echoing amongst the cliffs beyond the river, and the hissing rain, and every other sound was drowned when the wind arose, for after the first rush of the wind it seemed as if the end of the world had come, or as if, at the very least, some great battle like Hohenlinden was being fought right over their heads. Tree after tree came crashing to the ground and, as it fell, dragged down others with it. Now they would fall one after another with loud reports as if a regiment of giants were file-firing, and again a great wave of sound, a very volley of the heaviest artillery, would make the ground rock with its awful roar. 'Thank God, we got here in time,' said old Dick reverently; 'I guess there won't be a tree standing when this storm stops, and those poor wretched ponies will be pounded small enough for sausage meat!' 'Do you think they can't escape, Dick?' asked Frank; 'our rifles won't be good for much, then.' 'No,' replied Wharton, 'except, maybe, for old iron or chips to light a fire with. By the way, who has the matches?' 'They are on the packs,' said Towzer.