OCR Text |
Show A CHAPTER OF BETWEENS. 191 stead of their mountain bed of pine boughs. They slept the sound, sweet sleep of tired men whoso only nurse was nature ; pure air and water their stimulants. Suddenly, said Bob, in the only account he ever gave of it, " We were raised by a roar as if heaven and earth were coming together." He sprang up bewildered. The heavens were lit by the glare of lightning; the next instant inky blackness succeeded, and then thunder, which shook the foundation of the neigh-boringHiills. The autumn storm had come with unusual suddenness and force, and they were in the mouth of a natural tunnel. For a few minutes the air was comparatively calm, while the electric glare illumined the grove, and thunder rendered conversation impossi-ble. For an instant there was silence, and after it a great moving mountain of air swept down the gorge, and then the wind and rain-storm was upon them in all its fury. Bob felt himself hurled back-ward, but with the instinct of self- preservation sprang behind an immense green tree, whose spreading roots seemed to bid defiance to the blast. He screamed with all the force of his lungs to Bill, but there was no response. The dead trees snapped like pipe- stems; the rain and wind drowned his loudest cries. He saw that two dead trunks had fallen on either side of the tree that sheltered him; but only noted that this added to his safety, and redoubled his cries for his brother. But no answer. In two hours the storm ceased almost as suddenly as it had risen, and daylight showed the fearful ruin it had wrought. The forest of yesterday was a tangled, almost impassable jungle. Only a few of the largest trees still stood. Bob gazed around him, marveling at his safety, then shouted with all his strength for Will. There was a faint, mdurnful response from somewhere near ; it seemed almost under his feet. He climbed hurriedly over the logs about him, and shouted again. Again came that feeble response. His heart gave a great bound, and then stood still. That was not the voice of the deep-chested and lusty mountaineer of yesterday ; it was rather the moan of a sick woman or fretful child. Again came the faint call, this time in words. " Bob, for God's sake, come." In a shallow ravine before him was his brother. But what a sight ! Will lay upon his back, alive and conscious; but his legs were crushed beneath an enormous trunk, which pinned him to the earth. Bob sprang forward and madly tugged at the weight, which would have resisted the united strength of hundreds. The imprisoned hunter smiled, then groaned with a s, udden spasm of pain. |