"I foretold it," said he. "The world is on fire. The Day of Judgment has come! A time and times time, and a half."
He had been a Millerite.
"It will be here in an hour," said a harvester.
But there arose a counter-wind. The wall of fire seemed to be stayed. The smoke columns rose to the heavens like Babel towers.
Afar, families were seen fleeing on horseback toward the bed of a creek which they hoped to find flowing, but which had run dry.
"This is awful!" said Jasper. "It looks as though the heavens were in flames."
He shaded his hands and looked into the open space.
"What is that?" he asked.
A black horse came running toward the island, bounding through the grass as though impelled by spurs. As he leered, Jasper saw the form of a human being stretched at his side. Was the form an Indian?
On came the horse. He leered again, exposing to view a yellow body and a plumed head.