age storm, it's the
real thing."

The wind began to rise in intermittent gusts at first, then steadier,
stronger, as if loosed from all restraint. The aspen trees and the ash
bent to the earth in graceful salutations which fascinated Bob. A big
tree trunk snapped somewhere, and they heard it fall with a noise like a
groan.

"Hurry up, folks, it's after us!" shouted Bill.

Barbara answered with a shout of excitement and pleasure. They put their
ponies to the run, sparing them neither for climb nor descent. The
mountains seemed to rock about them; the noise of wind and thunder made
speech impossible, little whirlwinds of dust and loose earth and stones
enveloped them. Down below the valley was a black abyss.

They sighted the shack and made a last frantic scramble for it. As Bill
kicked in the door of the cabin the last full fury broke. Trent lifted
Barbara off her pony and ran into the house with her. Then the two men
tried to shut the door.

"No, no, let it be open! It's wonderful to be a part of it!" cried the
girl. She tried to stand in the door, but the wind whirled her aside as
if she were a leaf. At her beckoning Paul stood beside her, holding her
upright. It was like a war of worlds they looked upon.

"Will the shack stand, Bill?" Paul called to him.

"Can't say. Not if this wind keeps up."

Crash and crack and hurricane of wind. Mountains blurred by distant
rain, mountains streaked by lightning flashes. Then came the downpour:
the rain deluged, it leapt out of the sky and pierced the earth like
javelins. The men got the door closed, and tried to fit an old wash-pan
into the window to keep out the torrent. Barbara watched them, so
excited she could scarcely contain herself. She would have gone out into
it, if they could be induced to let her. Finally the shack was as
waterproof as they could make it, with every available thing stuffed
round the cracks and the edges.

Bill lit a candle, and Bob sat on the bunk, her feet drawn up under her.
It was the one dry spot. They ate crackers and cheese and sardines for
supper, with no chance to make a fire.

"It seems trivial to eat, when all that wonder is happening out there,"
she protested.

"Might as well eat as anything. Can't do nuthin' else," said Bill.
"Pesky shame we can't make no coffee."

"But look what _that's_ making, Bill!" she cried.

"Makin' a pesky lot of noise," he grumbled.

"The superman," jeered Paul.

Little by little the artillery d