ife, to free itself from the iron stakes.

Ned groped about until he found the lantern, and with great difficulty
he lit it. Nugget was trembling like a leaf, but the others were, so
far, more disgusted than frightened. A possible ducking, and the loss of
a night's sleep, was the most they dreaded.

But soon the presence of a real and actual danger made itself known. The
wind rose to such a point of violence that it was little short of a
hurricane. Trees began to go down here and there, and the passage of
the gale through the forest on each shore was like the whirring flight
of myriads of quail.

The tent was slightly protected by the timber on the upper point of the
island; otherwise it must have yielded to the first onslaught of the
storm.

"This is terrible," whispered Ned. "If it grows any worse I'm afraid we
will fare badly. The tent is strained to its utmost now."

"Even the iron stakes won't hold it if the wind gets through the flaps,"
said Randy in a dismal tone.

They were silent for a moment, listening to the increasing fury of the
gale.

"Oh! this is awful," wailed Nugget. "The water is running down my neck,
and I'm sitting in a big puddle. It's coming in all around me."

"You ought to be thankful you're not sitting in the open air," muttered
Clay. "That may be the next thing."

At Ned's suggestion--which, strange to say, had not occurred to any one
before--the boys overhauled their clothing bags and put on their rubber
coats. Each was provided with one of those useful articles.

As they sat about the flickering flame of the lantern a more furious
gust than any that had preceded came shrieking down the creek. In the
midst of its passage a great crash was heard, so loud and so near that
the very ground seems to tremble.

The boys could not repress a cry of terror. A tree had fallen close by,
and they dreaded lest another would crush the tent.

"Gracious! what if that was the big buttonwood!" cried Randy. "Our
canoes--"

His agitated face finished the sentence more plainly than words could
have done.

Ned rose, pulling his coat close about him, and seized the lantern.

"I must see about that," he said hoarsely. "Stay right here. I will be
back in a moment."

Before the others could utter a word of protest, he lifted the rear end
of the canvas half a foot, and, with lantern in hand, squirmed through
like a snake, leaving the tent in utter darkness.

CHAPTER XVIII

AT THE MERCY OF TH