It was like some horrible nightmare to Ben,--the whistling wind and the strange humming, the blackness, and the whirling cane and tree limbs. In some places the ground was furrowed up as by a plough, and down on their heads came dirt and grass, and then a shower of stalks that buried them completely. And still the wind kept up, in a madder gallop than ever. Ben felt as if every moment was going to be his last. The time was an age; yet by the watch it was not yet five minutes when the tornado had departed, leaving its track of ruin behind. But still the party of three under the cane-stalks lay still, wondering if it was safe to get up. "Do yer calkerlate it's over, cap'n?" came from Sorrel, after a painful pause. "It appears to be, but there is no telling what such a thing will do next," answered the young captain, as he pressed on the stalks over him, and got up. "Gilbert, are you hurt?" "No," came with a gasp. "But, Ben, that was--was a terror, wasn't it?" "It was, Gilbert, and something I never want to witness again." By this time Sorrel was also on his feet and hauling Gilbert into daylight. The cloud was gone, and the sun shone as brightly as ever. But at a great distance they saw the tornado sweeping up into the mountains. "We are well out of it," was Ben's comment, as they watched the cloud until it was out of sight. "That played sad havoc here. I wonder what it will do in the mountains?" No one could answer that question, and no one tried. Ben would have been very much surprised had anybody told him that the same tornado which had visited him was also to visit his brother Larry. But so it proved, as we shall speedily see. CHAPTER XXIV THE FLIGHT FOR LIBERTY "Well, this is getting too monotonous for anything." It was Larry who spoke, and he sat on the stump of a tree at the mouth of a wide cave, gazing disconsolately at a fire which several insurgents were trying to build. The place was on the top of a high hill, backed up by still higher mountains. On every hand were sharp rocks and trees, with a tangle of thorns. Small wonder, then, that Aguinaldo and his cohorts considered these fastnesses inaccessible for American troops. No regular body could have gotten to such a place, and to forward supplies hither was totally out of the question. The rebels numbered fifteen, all mountaineers and strong. At General Luna's request they had brought ten prisoners to the spot, and the other prisoners were to come up some time later. Why the Filipinos thus divided the men they had taken is not definitely known, yet divided they were, until some escaped and others died or were given up.