roaned Hippy in a tone of
disgust that brought a half-hearted laugh from his companions, though,
had they been willing to admit it, they too felt something of the
depression that was reflected in Emma Dean's face and voice.

Work on the camp finished, the Overland Riders put out the fire and
turned in, Henry rolling himself up into a furry ball, Hindenburg
snuggling down between Tom and Hippy. Only forest sounds, now faint and
far away, marred the solemn impressive stillness of the Big North Woods,
a stillness that was destined to be rudely interrupted ere the dawn of
another day.

CHAPTER VII

FELLED BY A MYSTERIOUS BLOW

When Grace awakened late in the night the feeling of oppression with
which she had gone to sleep still lay heavy upon her. The faint soughing
of a breeze in the tree tops, the light thuds of falling pine cones,
were the only sounds to be heard outside of the breathing of her
companions who were sleeping soundly.

Suddenly her ears caught a distant roar, and a few drops of rain
pattered on the tent.

"It is going to storm," murmured Grace. "I hope no dead limbs fall from
the trees on our camp." Pulling the blankets over her head to shut out
the sounds she tried to go to sleep, but sleep would not come, so Grace
uncovered her head and lay listening.

The wind seemed to die down for a while, but it soon sprang up with
renewed strength, and was sweeping violently over the tops of the pines,
which were creaking and groaning under the strain. A distant crash told
of some forest giant that had gone down under the blast; then the rain
fell, a deluge of it, which finally beat through the little tents and
trickled down over the sleeping Overland girls.

"Are you all right in there?" called Tom from the outside.

"Yes, but we are getting wet. Is it going to last long?" asked Grace.

"Not being able to get a view of the sky, I can't say positively. It
seems like only a shower to me."

"Wait a moment. I'll join you."

Grace hurriedly dressed and, throwing on her rubber coat, stepped out.

"I don't just like the way some of these trees are acting," said Tom.
"Perhaps you haven't noticed how the ground is heaving."

"Yes I have, but I did not know that it meant anything alarming."

"It shows that the wind is throwing a great strain on the trees and that
there is too much play in the roots for the good of the trees--and
ourselves," he added. "I hope our supplies do not fall down under the
w