A tree was falling. She remembered a tall aged pine
that stood a short distance to the south of the tent. Between the tree and
the tent was a fairly open space, that was filled principally with
saplings and scrub undergrowth. Harriet in that moment understood, she
thought, that the heavy downpour of rain had weakened the hold of the aged
roots of the tree in the ground. The heavy wind blowing against the old
pine had been too much for the weakened roots. The tree was falling with
mighty crashings and reports that sounded like the explosions of firearms.
To run, Harriet believed might be attended with serious consequences to
them, for the long limbs of the tree were penetrating the tent roof
before she had fairly gotten her companions underneath the cots. The tent
was swept down as Harriet was diving under the bed. She realized that if
the full force of the trunk fell on the cots nothing could save the girls
beneath them. Still, Harriet did not believe the tree could fall so flat
as that. Its limbs, she thought, would support its trunk, keeping the
latter from falling flat on the ground.
Her three companions screamed with terror. Harriet was silent. She was
listening to the terrifying sounds, straining every nerve to the task,
fully expecting to be blotted out of existence at any second.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182