'Well, it's gone, an' theer's no use tryin' to look for it,' said Chippy, and tucked himself up in his blanket again. CHAPTER XLVIII IN THE RAIN The scouts were falling off to sleep once more when they were aroused again, this time by the divinest music. A nightingale began to sing in the little wood, and made it echo and re-echo with the richest song. Suddenly a faint murmuring began to mingle with the lovely notes. The murmuring grew, and the bird's song ceased. The air was filled with the patter of falling rain. 'Rain!' cried Dick; 'that's rain, Chippy.' 'On'y a shower, p'raps,' said his comrade. 'I hope so,' returned the Wolf. They felt nothing of the rain at present, for they were camped beneath a fir which stood as an outpost to the coppice, and its thick canopy was stretched above their heads. Chippy sprang up and threw fresh fuel on the fire, and looked out on the night. 'Theer's a big black cloud creepin' up from the sou'-west,' he said. 'That looks pretty bad for a soaker.' In a short time the scouts knew they were in for a real drenching. The patter of the rain came heavier and thicker, until it was drumming on the fir-branches in steady streams. Soon great spots began to fall from the lower branches of the fir beneath which they lay. 'I've just had a big drop slap in my eye,' said Dick, sitting up. 'What are we going to do, Chippy?' 'Got to do summat,' said the Raven, 'an' quick, too, afore we're drownded out.' 'Let's rig up a shelter tent with the blankets,' suggested Dick; and they set to work at once. They pulled the four fence-rails which formed the framework of their bed from their places, and laid them side by side in search of the shorter ones. They proved much of the same size, so Chippy went to work with the hatchet to shorten a pair, while Dick began to dig the holes in which to step them. The ground was soft, and with the aid of his knife Dick soon had a couple of holes eighteen inches deep. While he did this Chippy had cut two rails down, and fastened a third across the ends of the shorter ones, with the scouts' neckties for cords. They had ample light to work by, for the fire had flared up bravely. Now they swung up their framework of two posts and a cross-bar, and stepped the feet of the posts in the holes, throwing back the soft earth, and ramming it in with the short, thick pieces cut off the rails. This made a far stronger hold for the uprights than anything they could have done in the shape of sharpening their ends and trying to drive them down.