She struck this with her open hand, saying, “Try it, Gip, good Gip,” and Gip, with strength nearly gone, turned as much to the right as possible, and beating against the strong wind, hurried on as fast as his weakened condition would allow him. In thus beating against the storm in an oblique direction, it brought them in a direct line with the flying debris, and Enola began to be bruised by the sticks and small stones which filled the air. She could hardly breathe either, for the dust and dirt which were swept up by the swirling current. She tried to protect her face with her hands, but these were soon raw and bleeding with the sand blast. Her eyes were filled with dirt, and her throat was dry and parched with the inhalation of the dirt-filled atmosphere.
She was suffering fearful agonies, and her suffering was growing worse every moment; she tried to hold her face closer to the elephant’s back, but she was too weak now to make any exertion at all. On the great, brave beast moved, his body swaying with the wind, and each minute looking as if he must give up the struggle. Now the fury of the storm seemed to have grown worse, and the next instant it seemed to be abating. This would give hope to the suffering girl and to the animal, and a moment’s breathing space in which they could recuperate slightly and prepare for a renewed effort.
It was just after one of these momentary spells of comparative quiet, that Gip, reeling and almost falling, had tried to pull himself together for another trial. His massive body seemed almost rigid as he stopped for a moment and braced himself; he half released his hold on Enola, and she, almost exhausted, felt that the grand fortitude of the animal and his sublime strength had given way, and that hope was indeed gone. But no; Gip shook all over; and, his nerves again relieved, made a last effort to go on. Painfully he strode on, never for a moment leaving the course which Enola had started him on.
The air seemed to grow thicker with sand and dust, while above them and all about them were flying logs, trees and stones. Enola was bruised and bleeding and she was on the point of fainting, when she opened her eyes for a moment, and just in time to see a huge tree fly through the air, and strike Gip fairly on the side of the head. Down he went like a shot, carrying Enola with him, but still holding her in his trunk. He had made a brave fight and lost.
CHAPTER XV.
IN THE TRACK OF THE STORM.
Sedai, who had been such a prominent figure in the first part of the journey, and who had played such a part in the real cause of the expedition, had not been forgotten since reaching the Land of On, but so many new and strange things had come up to occupy the time and minds of our friends, and so many attendants had been placed at their disposal, Sedai had not been called upon to perform the many little duties to which he had become accustomed, and he was left to enjoy himself much as he saw fit. He had accompanied the party on the first part of the journey, but the King wished to send word back to the city, of the change in the programme and of their intention to proceed to the far end of the country before their return, and Sedai had offered to carry the message. Not that native messengers were wanting, but Sedai seemed to find more enjoyment in the delightfully cool and comfortable city than he did riding through the somewhat heated country.
But he had been too long accustomed to the march, and the white companions of the past few weeks had become too dear to him, to long remain away from them; so after spending one day in the city, he determined to start out and overtake the party. But now a strange thing occurred. Far off in the west, just creeping up from the horizon, rose a dark cloud, at first no larger than a zebra, but growing in size each moment and fast approaching the city. It soon overcast half the heavens and the entire populace was standing in the streets gazing at this wonder. The cloud had cut off the twilight completely and now, while it was yet early, darkness was over all, a darkness which was appalling. The populace exchanged looks of wonderment, but offered no explanation of this strange freak of the elements.
Sedai, who had long been accustomed to seeing these fearful electric and wind storms, was surprised to see the wonderment in the faces of these people. Turning to one who was near him, he said:
“Why do you gaze at the heavens in that way; have you never before seen a storm?”
“Many of them,” answered the man, “but never at this time of the year, and never at any time as fierce a one as this promises to be.”