"It's a tar kiln, sure as preaching!" ejaculated he, at length. "There
ought to be some kind of a shack about, looks like."

He was still searching, when the wind, which had been increasing,
brought with it a sudden downpour of rain. Ralph was about to rush for
a tree to shelter himself, when a flash of lightning lighted up the
kiln and surrounding objects with a pale, brief glare.

"Ha--there she is!" exclaimed Ralph, discovering the object of his
search. "I almost knew the man as put up this kiln must have had a
shelter of some kind."

He made his way to a low, brush covered frame near by, arriving there
just in time. The darkness was intense, except when cloven by the
lightning, while the fall of rain was drenching and furious.

The shack leaked some, but it was an immense improvement over a tree
for shelter.

"Let's see where we are, anyhow," said Ralph, producing some matches,
one of which he struck. "Hello! There are some pine knots. Here's
luck at last."

In a few minutes he had a small fire blazing brightly, and felt more
like contemplating his surroundings with cheerful equanimity.

But as the rain increased, the leaks grew in number, threatening to put
out the fire, and converting the earth floor into a mushy mud puddle.

"I can't do any sleeping here," thought he. "Might just as well make