The whine of the wind rose to a demoniac shriek. Hiram turned to shout to his companions and a sudden gust seemed to take his breath so completely that he could not utter a sound.
He staggered, crouching, and seized Orrin Post who was actually being swept down the yard by the force of the gust. Jim Larry had scuttled to cover. Blodger stood in the doorway of the shack yelling something that Hiram could not understand.
The trees across the road and up the hillside bent and writhed as though seeking to uproot themselves. Into the air sprang a shed on the Pringle place, and when it had crossed the road and was about ten feet above the ground it fairly exploded as though a bomb had been set off inside of it.
Then the tornado struck Sunnyside—struck the place in all its fury.
There was not much rain, but what there was, blown by this terrible gale, cut like a knife. Loose boards began to fly over the yard. Everything the wind could get under seemed to shoot right up into the air. There was a cloud of light litter sucked up into the churning black mass that was flying over the farm.
Hiram and Orrin had managed to get into the lee of the shed. The wind thundered against it, shaking the structure as though to tear it loose from its foundations. But being low it did not offer the resistance of a higher structure, and perhaps was as safe from disaster as any building about the farm.
"Unless we got into the cellar," Orrin managed to make Hiram hear.
"Seems as though this wind would scoop us right out of a cellar," shouted Hiram. "Hey! Look there!"
He pointed to the corner of the barn where the silo stood. The round tank positively shook under the recurrent blows of the wind!
"She's going!" yelled Orrin in dismay. "She's going!"