The wind was now blowing with almost tornado force, and with it came a few scattering drops of rain.

Just as they gained the rocks something whizzed past their heads.
"What was that ?" gasped Phil, ducking after the object had passed.
"It was a small tree limb," answered Dave.

"We've got to watch out.
Hark!" They listened, and above the whistling of the wind heard a great crash.
"It's a tree being blown down!" cried Phil.

"Come on, let us get between the rocks, before something hits us on the head!" Much alarmed, both boys leaped for the shelter of the rocks, and in the darkness felt their way until they reached a split that was seven or eight feet deep and a foot wide at the bottom and twice that at the top.
"I guess this is as good a place as any, Phil," remarked Dave, when he had regained his breath sufficiently to speak.
"It won't be much protection if it rains hard," grumbled the shipowner's son.
"Well, I don't see that we can do better." "Neither do I." Further conversation was cut off by the wind and the rain.

The former shrieked and whistled through the woods, sending down branch after branch with tremendous crashes that awed the boys completely.