The sound was similar to continuous, uninterrupted
thunder. On it came with a magnificent roar that shook the very earth,
and revealed itself at last in the shape of a mighty whirlwind. In a
moment the distant woods bent before it, and fell like grass before
the scythe. It was a whirling hurricane, accompanied by a deluge of
rain such as none of the party had ever before witnessed. Steadily,
fiercely, irresistibly it bore down upon them, while the crash of
falling, snapping, and uprooting trees mingled with the dire artillery
of that sweeping storm like the musketry on a battle-field.
"Follow me, lads!" shouted Joe, turning his horse and dashing at full
speed towards a rocky eminence that offered shelter. But shelter
was not needed. The storm was clearly defined. Its limits were
as distinctly marked by its Creator as if it had been a living
intelligence sent forth to put a belt of desolation round the world;
and, although the edge of devastation was not five hundred yards from
the rock behind which the hunters were stationed, only a few drops of
ice-cold rain fell upon them.
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