“Is this a bad place to be in a storm?”
“There are worse places, only I don’t know ’em,” answered Tinny grimly. “I’d a good bit prefer being on any side of Thunder Mountain but this when the storm really bursts. But we’ll make the best speed we can, and maybe we can get out of the danger zone.”
“What specially makes it so dangerous here?” asked Ned.
Before Tinny could answer there flashed another vivid spear of lightning, followed by a crash louder than the first big one, and again they had to hold their horses in check.
[207]
“He said when the storm breaks!” murmured Bob, who was bouncing about on the back of his animal like a cork on troubled waters. “I wonder what he calls this?”
“This isn’t anything—just the beginning,” Tinny answered. “And while I don’t know exactly why this slope of Thunder Mountain is worse than the others, I think it must be because of iron or some metallic ores here more than anywhere else. I know that lightning strikes here oftener than anywhere else. That’s why it has the name Thunder Mountain.”
“Lightning Mountain would be a better name,” said Jerry, as another flash, vivid and menacing, shot across the low-lying clouds.
The jagged streak of electricity seemed to bury itself in the side of the mountain not far from the party and there followed such a crash as seemed to shake the very earth. The horses actually cowered down, too frightened to run.
“That struck somewhere!” exclaimed Ned, in the silence that followed the awful crash.
“I reckon it did,” said Cromley. “I’ve seen storms out here before, but when it gets going and makes up its mind, this is going to put it all over the worst I ever saw.”
“Well, if it’s going to get any worse hadn’t we better do something more than talk about it?” asked Jerry.
[208]
“I’m looking for a place of shelter,” Tinny remarked. “The worst of it is, though, that when there’s so much ore scattered about, one place is as bad as another to attract the lightning. But come on.”
After those first few flashes of lightning and terrific crashes the storm seemed to die away; but they all knew it was but a momentary passing, as if to enable the elements to gather strength for a worse outburst. However, even this brief respite gave them a chance to make better time down the mountain trail, for the horses were less inclined to throw their riders and gallop off by themselves.
The sun had begun to sink in the west some time before the first signs of storm were noticed, and now, with the fading of day and the overcasting of the sky with black clouds, the scene was fast darkening. Only one thing was in favor of the travelers, and that was that the trail at this point was broad and easy of travel, though it was steep.
“Is there any particular place you’re heading for?” asked Jerry, as he urged his steed alongside that of Tinny Mallison.
“Yes,” was the answer. “About two miles from here there’s an old cabin just off the trail. It was once owned by a mining company I invested some money in. Invested was all it ever amounted to, for the claim petered out. But the[209] cabin still stands; or did several months ago when I was last over this trail. If we can get there we can be well sheltered and comparatively safe from lightning shocks.”
“Do you think there is any danger from lightning?” asked Jerry.
“There certainly is,” Tinny answered.
The comparative quiet that had prevailed for a few minutes was once more broken by a low rumbling that told of distant thunder.
“Look out, boys! She’s going to break loose again!” called Ned, clapping his heels against the side of his horse and sprinting forward.
His words had hardly died away before the vicious lightning again hissed through the air like some gigantic whip swung by a Titanic teamster, and what corresponded to the crack of the whip was the sharp sound of the thunder.
That is all it was at first—a sharp crack, hardly louder than that a high-powered rifle would have given forth. But it was followed with terrifying rapidity by a great crash.
Cromley’s horse leaped to one side with such suddenness that the miner was unseated, and some one would have been compelled to walk the remainder of the journey had not Ned urged his own horse forward to catch the runaway. For that is what the miner’s animal became as soon as the saddle was empty.
[210]
“Good work, Ned!” cried Jerry, as the lad quieted the frightened animal.
“Are you hurt, Bill?” asked Tinny.
The old miner slowly rose, rubbed one leg and then the other.
“No, I reckon not,” he answered slowly. The old man was game, whatever else he lacked. Slowly he got into the saddle again, and then he grimly remarked, as the echoes of the thunder died away: “Guess I’d done better to be tied to the horse again, same as I was when the Nixon crowd had me.”
“You’ve got to keep a tight rein on your horse every time it lightens,” said Tinny. “They’re sure to jump at each clap, and if you’re not ready for ’em you’ll land on your neck. I wish we were at that cabin!”
The others felt the same way about it, and their uneasiness was not lessened when they saw Tinny looking apprehensively up at the clouds which were now thicker and blacker than ever.
“If the storm would break—I mean if the rain would come—it wouldn’t be so bad,” Jerry said.
“What do you mean—not so bad?” asked Ned. “We’ll get drenched when it starts—no umbrellas, no raincoats, nothing.”
“I mean there’ll be less danger from lightning when it starts to rain,” went on the tall lad.
“Jerry is right,” Tinny added, as they moved[211] forward again with lightning playing about them and a continuous mutter of thunder at times muffling their words. “Once the ground and trees are soaking wet, it makes so many more natural paths for the lightning to take. It diffuses itself all over gradually, instead of the tension being relieved in one big gigantic crack. And if you’ve ever noticed it, your nerves calm down in a thunderstorm as soon as the rain starts. It’s the same way with animals. Our horses will be easier to manage as soon as everything gets well wet.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” replied Bob. “We had lots of rain in France, too.”
“Gosh, I should say so!” agreed Ned. “Never a day without a shower, as I remember it.”
“Well, this is going to be more than a shower, and it’s coming pretty soon,” observed Tinny. “However, we’ve only got about a mile more to go and we’ll be at the old cabin. I only hope it’s still standing.”
“Is there room for the horses in it?” asked Bill.
“There used to be a shed back of the cabin where they kept the animals,” Tinny replied. “Whew!” he cried. “This is going to be a bad one!”
Following sharply on his words was a sheet of lightning that temporarily blinded them, so vivid[212] was it. Instinctively they all reined in their horses.
The resultant clap of thunder veritably stunned them all, while a sensation as of pins and needles pricked their hands and feet and ran up along their spines, causing a queer sensation in their scalps.
Just ahead of them a great rock was rent in twain by the lightning bolt which struck it, and the ground about them seemed to tremble. They had actually felt the stunning effect of the shattering lightning.
“Whew! Smell the sulphur!” cried Bob.
The odor was noticeable in the air.
The wind had died down for a moment, but now it suddenly sprang into being again, and with its howl came a curious pattering sound.
“Here comes the rain!” cried Tinny. “Now it will be better!”
Down came a great deluge of water. Ned, who was slightly in the lead, urged his horse forward. The others were about to follow when they saw Ned suddenly disappear from sight off the trail, as if he had fallen into some hole.
“Ned! Ned!” cried Jerry. “What happened?”