But more important, down in the neighborhood of the creek there were queer rustlings in the branches of the tall cottonwood trees, as if the birds were whispering together. On the ground there was the faint sound of running, soft-padded feet.
Also Mr. Simpson heard familiar cries of the animals farther off—the queer barking of the coyotes, the snarl of a wild cat—signaling each other of the approach of danger.
Perhaps the tents ought to be more securely fastened down in case of danger.
Mr. Simpson was again climbing the mesa when he saw away off, coming from the neighborhood of the Painted Desert toward them, what appeared like a giant. It was a huge column of sand borne straight upright.
A hurricane was behind it!
CHAPTER XVI
After Effects
One of the conspicuous characteristics of Mrs. Richard Burton was that she was at her best in emergencies. But, as she was a celebrated actress, it was of course easy to understand her appreciation of dramatic moments.
Before Mr. Simpson reached the top of the mesa she had awakened.
Something—a sound or an increasing heaviness in the atmosphere—had brought her slowly back to consciousness. Half a moment she lay wondering why she felt such a sense of impending calamity when, so far as she knew, everything about her was peaceful. Marie was breathing contentedly in her cot on the opposite side of the tent.
Getting up, Polly put on a heavy rose-colored silk dressing gown—the admiration of the Camp Fire girls—and walked to the opening of a tent.