CHAPTER II.

THE LESSON OF THE RIVEN OAK.

The minutes dragged slowly along. For some time it seemed as though there was going to be no let-up to the sudden storm; and already Billy was worrying over how they would get home without a soaking. But Hugh had noticed that it was less dark and gloomy than before, and he drew his own conclusions from this fact. Besides, the crashes of thunder certainly came from further away now, and that was convincing as well as encouraging to the young leader of the Wolf patrol.

“Do we have to stay here all night, or take our dose walking home, Hugh?” asked Billy, who apparently had failed to notice all these favorable signs.

“Oh! hardly as bad as that,” came the confident answer. “You can see that the worst is past by the way the clouds lighten; and that last thunder clap was surely a mile away, for I counted half a dozen seconds between the flash and the beginning of the crash. Let’s be satisfied with the way we’ve managed to cheat the rain and kept our jackets fairly dry. I believe in letting well enough alone.”

Billy began to notice the various indications, since his attention had been called to them by his more observing companion; and he quickly found reason to agree with Hugh that they would soon see the last of the rain.

“Jiminy! if it came down as heavy as this near home,” he said humorously, for Billy could joke, no matter what the conditions were, “we’ll need a boat to paddle along the pike. And say, think of little Pioneer Lake, will you? Won’t it be over the dam and rushing down like a mill race, though?”

The boys could now exchange remarks, because the thunder had rolled further away, although occasionally a terrific crash near at hand startled Billy, who liked to thrust his head out from under his shelter, just as a tortoise might from his shell, only to jerk it back again when a dazzling flash was instantly succeeded by a stunning bang.

“Whew! that was the worst knock of all we’ve had!” he ejaculated the next moment, shivering so that Hugh could feel his form tremble.

“You have to watch out in a bad storm for those same after-claps,” the other informed him. “They nearly always come, and do a heap of damage. There’s something in the air that draws the lightning back again to repeat. And chances are _that_ bolt shattered a tree into splinters, because I’m sure I heard the sound of falling limbs and branches.”

“Oh! Hugh, don’t you think it came right from the quarter where that big hollow oak stood which Arthur wanted all of us to use as a shelter from the storm?” Billy asked, considerable awe in his voice.

“I was thinking that myself,” replied the other soberly; “and when we go on, we’ll find out. If it should happen that way, the sight of it would be the greatest object lesson ever to Arthur; yes, to all of us.”

“I should say yes,” muttered Billy, as in imagination he pictured that lofty oak lying in ruins; “and I guess you did us all a great favor, Hugh, when you refused to let any scout find shelter under its branches, even if they did look mighty tempting.”

That one grand crash seemed to mark the winding up of the furious storm; for the rain stopped altogether, and gradually the surrounding woods became lighter. Still, no scout ventured to crawl forth, such was the spirit of obedience which had been fostered in the Wolf patrol in times past, when all manner of strange adventures had been the portion of the eight boys constituting it. Until the leader gave the signal, they must remain where they were; although one and all of them secretly confessed to being heartily tired of crouching in that strained attitude.

When Arthur and Bud heard the peculiar howl of the wolf—“_How-oo-ooo_”—softly repeated three times, they knew that this was the signal for release; and accordingly both boys came crawling out from their place of concealment, stretching their cramped limbs with more or less animation and gratitude.

“Let me tell you it’s few scouts who would have noticed these rocky shelves in the formation of the hill,” Billy told the others impressively, “and then have remembered them just when a hiding-place from the storm was needed! When we report this adventure to the committee in charge of that banner, I hope they’ll agree that our patrol deserves a good big ten-point mark placed on record, for doing the right thing at the right time.”

“And let me tell you, the other patrol leaders’ll be warm under the collar when they hear about it, especially Alec Sands,” Bud went on to say reflectively. “Time was when he just hated Hugh here like everything. Then for a while Alec turned right around, so that he seemed to be as good a friend as Hugh had in the whole troop; but I’ve taken notice lately that Alec’s showing signs of his old trouble. You know he’s a spoiled darling at home and thinks everything ought to come his way. He’s straining every nerve to count points, and says he’s got that fine banner as good as won. Huh! like fun he has! Wait till the Wolf patrol is heard from!”

“That’s the way to talk, Bud,” commented Billy; “it gives us all a nice warm feeling. I only wish we could manage to get a photograph of these shelter caves that came in so handy. Nothing like being able to show the proof, when you’re going to make a report to the committee.”

“Well, you’ll have to come back here on a clear day, then,” said Hugh; “because there isn’t half enough light now to take them, and we haven’t any flashlight apparatus along. If all of you are ready, let’s be making tracks toward home.”

Billy noticed that the leader took great pains to walk along the same trail they had used in advancing, and he could give a pretty fair guess why this should be so.

That was characteristic of Billy; he often acted as though sleepy; but, once he was aroused, he could make as good use of his eyes and ears as the next fellow. Just then he fancied that Hugh expected to spring a considerable surprise on his chums before they had gone many rods.

“Looks as if we would be pretty wet, after all, the way the drops come down from the trees,” Arthur remarked, as he started to draw the collar of his coat up about his neck. “But then, none of us are made of salt, are we, boys?”

“Well, I should say not,” declared Bud, “after all we’ve been through since the Wolf patrol was first started, and Lieutenant Denmead consented to serve as our Scout Master. And he’s worked wonders for the lot of us, everybody says. Some of the boys in the troop have improved five hundred per cent. since they joined the scouts. They’ve learned that a fellow can get heaps and heaps of fun out of life without playing mean tricks or being cruel to birds and animals.”

“Hear! hear!” exclaimed Billy, softly clapping his hands in applause.

“If to-morrow is fine, I hope the whole bunch will come up here again,” urged Arthur at this point. “We surely must get photographs of those queer rocky shelters, to show the judges when we put in our claim for ten points. Hugh, will you come, for one?”

“I certainly will, Arthur, and hope both the other fellows will be along, for they ought to be in the pictures.”

“Oh! there’s only going to be one, you know, Hugh; unless we happen to strike a bevy of young partridges with their mother. I’ve got a quail sitting on her nest, but always wanted a group picture of the partridge family.”

“Well, we’ll have to order up one for you, then, Arthur,” chuckled Bud.

Just then Arthur, not looking very closely where he stepped, stumbled over something that lay in the trail.

“Look here, fellows, what does this mean?” he exclaimed, stooping to pick up the object. “A splinter of wood torn from a tree, and as fresh as anything! Why, I wonder if the lightning could have done that? Look around, fellows, and—oh! just see what happened to that tree! Why, the whole ground’s covered with the wreckage! What a terrible thing a bolt of lightning is, isn’t it, Hugh?”

“One of the most fearful things known,” Hugh replied; “but look again, Arthur, and tell me if you think you ever saw this same tree before!”

Billy fairly held his breath as he waited to hear what the other’s reply would be, for he had already seen that which told him the truth.

“Why, you don’t expect me to have a speaking acquaintance with every tree in the woods, do you, Hugh?” remarked Arthur. And then, seeing that the other was really in earnest, he looked again, and more closely, after which he continued: “Well, now that you mention it, seems to me there _is_ something familiar about that riven stump. My stars! Hugh, it’s the big oak with the hollow trunk!”

There was a vein of awe in the boy’s voice when he said this, and his eyes were staring as hard as could be at the telltale evidence before him.

“And, Arthur, it doesn’t look quite so cozy in that hollow as when you wanted us to hide there from the storm, does it?” Hugh asked him.

The boy turned a white face toward the patrol leader, and there actually were tears in his eyes as he said slowly:

“Just to think what would have happened to the bunch of us boys if everybody else had been as foolish as I was! It scares me just to look at the awful smash that bolt made of the big oak. And that shows how valuable it is to know what is safe and what isn’t. Hugh, after this I’m going in for woodcraft and everything connected with it. I’ve been fiddling too much with this camera business, perhaps.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Arthur,” the patrol leader rejoined. “Photography happens to be your hobby, just as geology and surveying are Bud’s. You’ve made some cracking good pictures, too, since you put your mind on it. I’m sure that when you turn in the ones you expect to show of flashlight views of wild animals, taken in their native haunts, the series will bring quite a few points to the Wolf patrol for that prize banner.”

“I hope so,” said Arthur, “but that does not change my resolution about woodcraft. You must have guessed it was this tree that the last bolt struck, Hugh. I can see now why you kept following our back tracks so closely, even when there was a better trail at hand. You wanted to show me this sight, so it could be an object lesson. Well, let me tell you all I’ll never forget it as long as I live; and some fine day p’r’aps I can keep other foolish boys from getting under a big tree when a storm is coming up.”

“I was just thinking of something, Hugh,” remarked Billy, who had indeed been looking unusually serious for him while this conversation was going on.

“Well, give us the benefit of your wisdom, then, Billy Wolf,” Bud entreated.

“Here’s where we’ve got a fighting chance to pull down the biggest wad of points you ever heard of. Wasn’t it two hundred and fifty that was to go to the patrol containing a scout who had been instrumental in saving a human life since the contest started? Well, what’s the matter with our claiming a thousand? Hasn’t our leader saved all our lives by his judgment in this hollow tree business? How about that, Hugh? Think we’d stand any show of getting our claim admitted by the committee?”

“Well, that’s too fine a question for me to settle offhand,” the other replied with a laugh; “but I rather think it meant saving a life at the risk of one’s own; and you know that it was only my knowledge of these things that counted in this case. Still, Arthur must take a picture of this tree to-morrow, and we can put in a claim for points in woodcraft. It will be a good thing for every scout in the troop to hear about; and when they see what happened to the big oak with the fine hollow in its trunk, they’ll never allow themselves to be tempted to crawl into such a trap when lightning is in the air.”

As the four boys hurried on Bud remarked drily: “A little common sense went a long way this time.”