"I think it's all right, Roger," he said; "but to make sure I'm going to tie to this branch this piece of rope that I brought with me, and lower it inside. Then we can always have something to pull ourselves up with." "It takes you to think up such things," was the comment of the other boy, who greatly admired his cousin's thoughtfulness, though seldom able to shine in that same respect himself. Giving his gun in charge of Roger while he worked, the older lad quickly tied one end of his piece of rope to the limb alongside the opening. "Now we can climb in, and none too soon, for there comes the rain with a whoop that sounds like an Indian attack!" he remarked. Dick would have gone first, but it would never do for headstrong Roger to allow any one to precede him, when there was an atom of danger to face. So he swung in, and blocked the passage of the other, though with a good-natured laugh. He had shifted his rifle to his back by means of the strap that was attached to it for that very purpose. This allowed him to have both hands free. Having dropped down so that he was hanging from the rim of the opening, Roger failed to touch the bottom with his dangling feet. "I don't seem to make it, Dick," he called out; "but now I'm going to try the rope. Hurrah! here's the bottom at last; and I judge that it's only about eight feet or so below the opening. Coming down, now?" "Yes, because here's the rain pouring down; keep out of the way, Roger," with which remark the older boy started down. He found no difficulty in landing beside his cousin. The big tree was hollow half-way down to its roots, so that hardly more than a mere shell of the outside remained. "Listen to it come down, Dick!" exclaimed the younger lad, presently. "Sounds as if the clouds had broken above, and meant to put the river up to the flood stage again, after it had started to go down. And the wind blows pretty hard, too. I hope, now, it doesn't knock this old oak over, and give us heaps of trouble. Wasn't that thunder I heard? What if lightning should strike here? Perhaps we were foolish to try so hard to escape a ducking, Dick. There may be some things worse than a wet jacket, it seems to me." "That's right, Roger, and I'm glad you look at it that way; but we're in here now, and perhaps we'd better stay, and take our chances. Such a storm will soon be over; and, when the wind goes down some, we can paddle across the Missouri without running the risk of a bad spill. We promised mother not to take too many chances, because she dreads the water, after losing her brother the way she did in the drifting ice three years ago this spring." The wind howled dismally around them, and the rain beat heavily against the thin shell of the tree, so that at times it creaked and groaned in a way that excited the fears of Roger anew, for he thought it might be about to give up its long fight, and yield to the storm's fury. But Dick kept his courage up by words of good cheer.