It passed directly between the Camanchee Indians and their intended
victims, placing between them a barrier which it would have taken days
to cut through. The storm blew for an hour, then it travelled onward
in its might, and was lost in the distance. Whence it came and whither
it went none could tell, but far as the eye could see on either hand
an avenue a quarter of a mile wide was cut through the forest. It had
levelled everything with the dust; the very grass was beaten flat; the
trees were torn, shivered, snapped across, and crushed; and the earth
itself in many places was ploughed up and furrowed with deep scars.
The chaos was indescribable, and it is probable that centuries will
not quite obliterate the work of that single hour.
While it lasted, Joe and his comrades remained speechless and
awe-stricken. When it passed, no Indians were to be seen. So our
hunters remounted their steeds, and, with feelings of gratitude to
God for having delivered them alike from savage foes and from the
destructive power of the whirlwind, resumed their journey towards the
Mustang Valley.
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