nder the bed. She realized that if
the full force of the trunk fell on the cots nothing could save the girls
beneath them. Still, Harriet did not believe the tree could fall so flat
as that. Its limbs, she thought, would support its trunk, keeping the
latter from falling flat on the ground.

Her three companions screamed with terror. Harriet was silent. She was
listening to the terrifying sounds, straining every nerve to the task,
fully expecting to be blotted out of existence at any second. She felt the
first result of the falling tent when a flood of water that had rained
down on the tent floor splashed into her face and over her body.
Everything seemed to cave in. Some of the larger limbs of the tree struck
the floor of the tent so close to the cots that the girls under them were
paralyzed with fear for a few awful seconds.

It seemed to them that the crashings and crunchings never would cease. But
they finally did. The girls then realized that the air was close and that
it was insufferably hot where they were.

"Is--is it all over?" gasped Cora.

"Yes, I hope so," answered Harriet in a matter of fact voice.

"Wha-at was it?" questioned Patricia in a smothered tone.

"The old pine tree fell. It was fortunate for us that we were in the
centre of the tent, for the trunk of the tree is kept from us by the
branches that are resting in the tent and on the ground at each side. But
girls, we must get out of here. Is any one of you hurt?"

The girls replied in the negative. How to get free of the tent was a
problem. The canvas roof was drawn taut over their haven of safety. The
air in their strange prison was getting very close.

"Oh, let's get out of this awful place," moaned Cora.

"We must wait a little," answered Harriet. "You lie perfectly still. I
will try to get some fresh air in here. Oh, I wish I had a knife," she
added as her groping hands came in contact with the canvas over which she
was searching for some little opening into which she could insert a finger
and tear the canvas. A moment later Harriet uttered a glad little
exclamation. She had found the opening that she was searching for. She
ripped the canvas after great effort, for the cloth was tough. Then to her
dismay she found a great fold of the canvas on the other side of the
opening thus made. All her labor had been fruitless.

Harriet raised her voice in a shout for assistance. The cry was muffled
and could not possibly have reached far. Their