time, and the girls ran to fasten down their tents. "Whew!" said
Sahwah, struggling with a tent flap, "listen to the wind." The
great pines were roaring deafeningly, and the lake, lashed into
fury, was dashing high against the cliff. "Where are you going?"
said Nyoda imperatively, as Hinpoha started down the path to the
lake in her bathing suit. "To bring in the flag," answered
Hinpoha. "It'll be torn to pieces in that gale." It was all she
could do to stand upright on the dock. The rain was coming down
in slanting sheets that closed round her like a fog. She untied
the ropes that held the flag and tried to lower it. But it would
not come. Something was wrong with the pulley. The flag was
flapping in the wind and straining at the ropes like a spirited
horse.

"No help for it," said Hinpoha to herself, "I'll have to go up on
top." The tower swayed in the wind as she mounted the ladder,
and the rain dashed in her face, blinding her. Great crashes of
thunder sounded in her ears, and the lightning flashed all around
her. Up on top it was worse yet. The wind whipped her long hair
out and threatened to hurl her from the little platform, so she
did not dare let go of the railing with one hand while she
released the pulley with the other. "Glory," she whispered as she
cautiously descended the ladder, "but the Thunder Bird has it in
for us!"

She sped up the path with the precious flag held against her
bosom, and found the girls gathered in the shack. Nyoda was
kindling a fire in the big open fireplace, and the girls were
seated in a circle before it. Then Nyoda, raising her voice
above the patter of the raindrops on the roof, read aloud while