Gold miners -- Fiction; Nevada -- Fiction; Western stories
At the end of a few minutes only the frightfulness of the thing could
no longer be endured. Beth had been all but torn from her seat by the
sheer weight and impact of the wind. All the world was roaring
prodigiously. The sand and dust, driving with unimaginable velocity,
smoked past in blinding fury.
The mare had ceased to move. Beth was aware of her inertia, dimly.
She remembered at last to dismount and stand in the animal's shelter.
At length on the raging and roaring of the air-sea, crashing onward in
its tidal might, came a fearful additional sound. It was rushing
onward towards the girl with a speed incredible--a sound of shrieking,
or whistling, that changed to a swishing as if of pinions, Titanic in
size, where some monstrous winged god was blown against, his will in a
headlong course through the tumult.
Then the something went by--the whole roof of a house--from twenty
miles away. It scraped in the earth, not ten feet off from where the
pony stood--and she bolted and ran for her life.
Down went Beth, knocked over by the mare. With a hideous crash the
flying roof was hurled against a nearby pinnacle of rock. The wooden
wings split upon the immovable obstruction, and on they went as before.
The pony had disappeared, in panic that nothing could have allayed.
The storm-pall swallowed her instantly, Beth could not have seen her
had she halted a rod away. Her eyes had been opened for half a moment
only before she was flung to the earth. She was rolling now, and for
the moment was utterly powerless to rise or to halt her locomotion.
When she presently grasped at a little gray shrub, came to a halt, and
tried to stand erect, she was buffeted bodily along by the wind with no
strength in her limbs to resist.
She was blown to the big rock pinnacle on which the roof had been
divided. An eddy twisted her rudely around to the shelter, and she
flung herself down upon the earth.
CHAPTER XXV
A TIMELY DELIVERANCE
How long she lay there Beth could never have known. It seemed a time
interminable, with the horror of the storm in all the universe. It was
certainly more than an hour before the end began to come. Then clouds
and the blizzard of sand and dust, together with all the mighty
roaring, appeared to be hurled across the firmament by the final gust
of fury and swept from the visible world into outer space.
Only a brisk half-gale remained in the wake of the huger disturbance.
The sky and atmosphere cleared together. The sun shone forth as
before--but low to the mountain horizon. When even the clean wind too
had gone, trailing behind its lawless brother, the desert calm became
as absolute as Beth had beheld it in the morning.
She crept from her shelter and looked about the plain. Her eyes were
red and smarting. She was dusted through and through. In all the
broad, gray expanse there was not a sign of anything alive. Her mare
had vanished. Beth was lost in the desert, and night was fast
descending.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account