"You've been singing that all morning," said the Scoutmaster. "What is it?" " Why?" He laughed and we went back to wiping down the tables in the dining fly. If we hurried we might break camp before the next round of storms swept through. The first wave had hit after sunset the night before. Lightning sizzled across the sky and thunder shook the ground. Several inches of water ran through the field in which the troops were camped. Three of our tents swamped. Nylon walls shuddered in the wind which also twisted the dining fly. In the dark, I muttered prayers as I helped erect a tent so we could get the boys out of a swamped tent, into someplace somewhat dry. Read next feature >