More than ever, Dan now wished that the Cubs would return to camp. Though not afraid to remain alone, he could not rid himself of an uncomfortable feeling that at this very moment he was being watched from the nearby woods.
His mind dwelt upon the unpleasant recollection that a painted paddle, food and a highly valuable blanket had disappeared from camp. Now it seemed someone had designs upon the canoe!
The trail of moccasin prints could not be traced beyond the beach. Yet Dan was almost certain that their maker, perhaps one of the Indians he had met, had taken refuge in the woods.
“Nothing I can do except warn Mr. Hatfield,” he told himself. “A nice thing when one can’t leave anything lying around without having it disappear!”
Dan went down to the water’s edge to wash his hands. The river looked very dark and menacing, an indication that a storm might be brewing.
Overhead, black clouds were traveling rapidly across the sky.
“Storm’s coming up fast,” Dan thought uneasily. “I hope the Cubs get back before it breaks!”
Even as he straightened up from washing his hands, a strong breath of air stirred the trees. Waves began to pile up on the beach.
Fearful that the canoe might be washed away, Dan pulled it farther back on shore.
Unexpectedly, a great gust of wind swept the beach. Sand was flung in Dan’s face, causing him to cough and choke.
The wind blew hard for a minute or two and then subsided. A few large drops of rain splashed down.
Deciding to seek the shelter of the hogan, Dan scrambled up the slope to the camp.
Pausing an instant to catch his breath, he gazed down on the cleared square of beach where only a few minutes before he had completed the sand painting.
A gasp of dismay escaped his lips. For where the picture had been, there was now only a hodge-podge of wildly mixed colors!
A half-sob escaped Dan as he beheld the ruin of the beautiful sand painting. The work of hours—completely destroyed! It was almost too much to bear.
As he stood staring at the meaningless mess of mixed color, the boy heard footsteps behind him. He turned quickly to see that it was Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs returning from their hike to the ravine.
“Hi, Dan!” the Cub leader greeted him cheerily. “Picture all finished?”