CHAPTER X.

THE THUNDERSHOWER.

It had been growing warmer all day. When Susie looked at the thermometer at noon she wrote "82 degrees" in her little book. As they sat around the dinner table Uncle Robert asked:

"Do you find it hot in the meadow to-day?" "Rather warm," replied Mr.

Leonard, "but it is fine haying weather. By night we shall have the hay in off that twenty acres, and it will be the finest crop of timothy I have had in years."

The haying had begun four days before. For a week Mr. Leonard had visited the field of timothy daily, and when he found the long heads of the graceful gra.s.s in full bloom he said:

"It is ready. We must begin to-morrow."

So the next morning the horses were hitched to the mowing machine, and Peter drove out to the meadow. The plumy heads of the tall timothy swayed on their slender stalks as they bowed before the breeze that swept over the meadow, making it look in the sunshine like the rippling surface of a quiet lake.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mowing the meadow.]

It seemed a pity to cut it down, but Peter thought only of the fine hay it would make, as he drove around the meadow again and again, each time coming nearer the center.

No sound broke the stillness but the "click, click" of the sharp knives, at the touch of which the tall gra.s.s quivered a moment and then fell.

In the afternoon Donald rode the rake, to which one of the horses, strong and steady, was. .h.i.tched. The horse knew his business. He needed no direction from Donald as up and down the meadow he went, with slow and even steps.

Donald sat on the small round seat, his hand grasping the lever by which he raised and lowered the long curved teeth of the rake that gathered up the hay and dropped it in long rows called windrows.

Mr. Leonard and Frank followed with their pitchforks, and piled the windrows into big round c.o.c.ks. The sun shone hot and clear. A strong, dry south wind was blowing, and the air was filled with the sweet smell of the newly mown hay.

The second day Mr. Leonard rode the machine while Peter and Frank opened the hay that had been c.o.c.ked the day before, so that it would be nicely dried. By noon it was all cut.

The next day they raked it up for the last time and began to stow it away in the big haymows in the barn, where the very smell of it would make the horses hungry.

"Susie and I are coming out to help this afternoon," said Uncle Robert, as, after a short rest in the cool porch, the haymakers, started for the meadow again.

"We'll take all the help we can get," replied Mr. Leonard.

"I am afraid it is going to rain," said Uncle Robert, as he started a little later with Susie for the hayfield. "The barometer has fallen since morning."

"But, uncle," said Susie, "I don't see any clouds."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Raking and c.o.c.king hay.]

"Watch, and you'll see them before long," returned Uncle Robert. "What is that in the west now?"

"It looks like the beginning of a cloud," said Susie.

Mr. Leonard, Peter, and Frank were loading the hay into a big wagon, while Donald raked after them.

"There's a shower coming," said Uncle Robert, pointing toward the west.

All paused and looked at the bank of clouds just coming into sight along the western horizon.

The air was still and sultry. Great beads of perspiration rolled down the faces of the haymakers.

"It's going to rain, sure," shouted Mr. Leonard, "and we must hurry or this fine hay will be spoiled. Harness up the horses to the other hayrack, Frank and Donald--be quick!"

The boys did not need urging. They felt the need, and ran to the barn.

"Bring some extra pitchforks!" shouted their father after them.

Uncle Robert pulled off his coat, and the spirit of his boyhood days came back.

Susie seized a rake and began to gather the scattered hay and pile it on the c.o.c.ks.

The fresh span of horses galloped into the field. Frank brought them to a stand between two long rows of hayc.o.c.ks.

How they all worked! The very horses seemed to understand. They started with a jump to each new c.o.c.k, and stood perfectly still as one after the other was added to their load.

"It is coming!" shouted Peter, swinging his fork to spread the great bundles of hay which came flying up to him.

The clouds looked like mountains with snowy peaks as they rose rapidly in the southwest. The ma.s.s moved under the sun and the bright silver color changed to blackness. Lightning flashes followed one another quickly. The low rumbling of thunder stirred the still air.

"It is coming!" cried Donald, as he took the reins to move to another c.o.c.k. "G'long!"

All was hurry and excitement. Mrs. Leonard and Jane appeared on the scene with rakes in hand. Barri bounded from horse to horse as if that was some help.

Suddenly it grew darker. The leaves began to quiver. A curious light crept over the fields.

"There is the wind," shouted Frank. "The rain will be here in a minute."

Clouds completely covered the sky. Black forms seemed to dart out of their heavy ma.s.ses.

"There's a drop," cried Susie.

Then what a wind! Straw hats were whirled away, but there was no time to run after them.

"Pile up the hay!"

The great loads staggered.

"Drive for the barn!" shouted Mr. Leonard. "Some of it must spoil, I suppose. We have done our best."

The horses moved off on the run, Frank's team ahead.

A roll and a crash of thunder followed a zigzag flash.

The hay was under cover, and the rain poured down.