The Day of Resis

by Lillian Frances Mentor

“It does indeed look very threatening,” said Sedai.

The night grew even darker, and then the lightning broke through the black clouds for a moment illuminating the beautiful city which the inhabitants had for the first time in their lives, failed to lighten. The thunder rolled up from the west, making a deafening roar, and still the people stood gazing, so overpowered were they by this strange event. And now the fitful gusts of wind reached them, and then a few drops of rain fell; and listen: what is that fearful sound. It is not thunder, for the thunder is roaring peal on peal and cannot be mistaken. This is something else. It can be heard only when the thunder rests for a moment. And it is growing nearer, and a little longer and it seems to be almost on them.

Like a flash it comes to Sedai.

“It is the simoon,” he cries, in such an alarmed voice that all look at him in surprise. Again he called out, “the simoon.” And now the natives all crowded around asking him what he meant. He had not learned the language sufficiently to make them understand by words, but by making signs he explained to them how the great winds sweep over the earth, leveling houses, trees and all else to the ground. Even then they showed no signs of fear. But one of them happened to remember the King, and that he, with the strange guests, was somewhere in the country, over which the storm was now approaching.

“The King,” the man cried, and then, the others catching his meaning, and realizing the King’s danger, the cry of “the King” rose high above the roar of the storm.

Sedai grasped the situation at once and knew that the King and his friends must be in imminent peril. The storm had come up just at that hour of the evening when the party, having rested during the heat of the day, might be expected to be on the road. If this was true and they were near no villa at the time, they must have fallen victims to the storm. But the populace was also fully aroused now, and already men were appearing in the streets astride of zebras, waiting only for others to congregate when they would hurry on to the rescue of the King and his party, if it was not already too late.

Sedai also brought out his zebra and joining the party, they started for the shore of the lake, knowing that somewhere near this would be found the King and his party. They started down the Avenue of On with the hope of reaching the King and his friends in time to help them, but the air was now becoming thick with sand and even sticks and stones, and the rescuing party were riding right in the face of this merciless hurricane. The zebras held their heads far down and moved on determinedly. Their riders lay close to their necks, endeavoring in this way to protect their faces. But it grew worse. The zebras, now thoroughly blinded, stumbled on, making heroic efforts to keep up the uneven struggle, but their pace was growing slower and slower and there seemed to be no chance for their getting much further. Suddenly Sedai’s zebra turned to the right and left the avenue, the others followed. The party dared not open their eyes to see where the zebras were taking them, but after a little while noticing a cessation of the pitiless rain of sand and gravel, they opened their eyes as well as they could, and found that the animals had left the road and had sought shelter from the fearful storm near one of the farm villas. They had stopped under the east wall which protected them to some extent.

The men hurriedly dismounted and led the zebras to the large stable in the rear. All realized that it was useless to try to proceed further in the pitiless storm; it would only be death to do so, and they could not help their friends if they were in such a condition as the storm promised to put them in if they continued. Another hour of that fearful onslaught of gravel and sand, and small sticks and twigs, and every man would be dead. So they determined to wait until the storm would abate, when they would hurry on and give assistance to their friends, if it was not forever too late.

The inky blackness of the night, lit up only occasionally by the lightning, the fearful peals of thunder, the roaring of the storm as it rushed madly on, made the night one never to be forgotten. It must have been several hours past midnight before it abated in the least, and after it had once spent its wild fury it died quickly, and in a very short time it was perfectly calm.

Sounds of wounded and distressed animals could now be heard, pitiful in their mournful cries; trees could still be heard falling, and the night-birds which had escaped the fury of the storm, again took up their flight, giving out most dismal screeches. But the storm had passed, and Sedai and his party were again moving slowly along the avenue, for the night was still dark and many fallen trees now covered this beautiful highway.