After that he got on much better, and caught two good-sized ones, and held them and the line taut, while Chippy sailed in with the knife and whipped their heads off. In a short time they had seven, for the holes were well furnished with occupants, and with these seven they stayed content. They washed them in a quiet backwater, and rubbed them as clean as they could with wisps of dry grass, and then packed them in Chippy's haversack, with more dry grass about them. 'Mek' us a jolly good supper to-night,' said the Raven. 'They will,' cried Dick. 'Now for the road again. We've got an uphill stretch before us, Chippy, according to the map.' CHAPTER XXXIX THE STORM--WHAT HAPPENED WHILE THEY DRIED THEIR CLOTHES Within a mile again, the track they were following--a very ancient vicinal way--began to rise over a long stretch of moorland used mainly for sheep-walks, and covered in places with wide patches of low-growing bilberry-bushes. On some of these bushes the purple little berries were already ripe, and the boys gathered them in handfuls, and ate them as they walked. Suddenly a low, heavy muttering called their attention to the western sky, and they saw a blue-black cloud rising swiftly. 'Thunder,' said Dick; 'that's what this terrific heat has meant.' 'Best step out,' remarked the Raven. 'No shelter about 'ere for a mile or two.' They stayed no longer to gather bilberries, but pushed on at a steady swinging stride, looking back from time to time at the storm, which seemed to pursue them. A wind sprang up, and wild gusts raced past them, and howled across the moor. Light, swift clouds which seemed to be flying before the storm hurried across the sky, and the sunshine was swallowed up and the day darkened. Dick looked back and whistled. 'Here comes the rain, Chippy,' he said. 'We'd better put our jackets on.' They did so, but the Raven shrugged his shoulders as if he was of the opinion that jackets would be but slight protection against the downpour now rushing upon them. The thunder-shower was perhaps a couple of miles away, and marching across the country in a line as straight as if drawn with a ruler. A clump of pines stood out darkly against the white veil of the streaming rain. As the scouts looked, the pines were swallowed up, and the wall of water stalked swiftly on towards them. They looked round, but there was not the faintest chance of gaining the least shelter. All round them the earth was covered with low-growing bushes; there was neither tree nor hedge nor fence to break the force of the torrential downpour. A mile in front the road topped the ridge and disappeared. 'There may be shelter beyond the ridge, Chippy,' cried Dick. 'Let's run for it.'