The moaning sound had now risen to a scream, as if the wounded animal was wild with rage, and about to break loose.
"What does it do, blow straight ahead and lift things off the ground?" asked Andy.
"No, it goes more in a circle," answered the ranch lad. "That's how it gets its name-cyclone—cycle—circle, you know."
"Of course, I might have remembered," agreed Andy.
"But what does it do?" asked Frank, who had never seen the effects of one of these curious wind storms.
"Oh, it pulls things up by the roots when it gets a chance," answered Billy. "It just seems to twist everything off—a sort of corkscrew motion you know. I've seen whole houses twisted right around and set down some distance from where they stood, just facing the other way. That's the reason we build everything low, hoping the wind will pass over it."
"Does it rain?" inquired Andy.
"Sometimes. I think we're going to get some now. See if you can get any more speed out of those nags. We're almost at the ranch and we may make it in time."
Frank and Andy called to their ponies, and, as Buffalo was able to make a little better time under Billy's urging, the other two animals forced themselves to do likewise, for they did not want to be left behind.
"Won't it be more dangerous in a building than out in the open?" asked Frank, when they had ridden on about a mile, and had a glimpse of the ranch in the distance. "If the house is going to be lifted up and twisted around——"