It was indeed an object to appal the stoutest heart. On it came, like a black wall, rising higher and higher, and curling over our heads, till the sky and the sun himself were obscured. The soldiers saw it and trembled, for they knew its deadly power; whole regiments had before been buried beneath that heavy canopy. Their only chance of safety, they fancied, was to gallop through it. With frantic energy they dug their spurs into the sides of their panting steeds. They no longer thought of their miserable prisoners. Without a sensation of commiseration, they left them to the dreadful fate they themselves strove to escape. Neither could we do anything for them: if we stopped, we also should lose our lives. As we followed the soldiers, we found the Indians all huddled together, with looks of despair on their countenances, watching the approach of the sand-drift. They had no prospect of extricating themselves either; for the Spaniards had not even cut the cords which bound them all together. I glanced at the black wall of sand; it was still some way off. Could I leave my fellow-creatures thus to perish horribly, without an attempt to save them? No burning thirst, thanks to Ithulpo’s precautions, had yet dried up the sympathies of my heart.
“What are you going to do, David?” asked my father, as he saw me throw myself from my horse.
“To give these poor fellows a chance of life,” I answered, drawing out my knife, and cutting away at their cords.
“Your mother and sisters, my lad, must not be forgotten,” he muttered; “but stay, I will help you.”
As he said this he set to work to release the Indians, in which we were directly joined by Ithulpo; the rear-guard, as they passed by, bestowing many curses and threats of vengeance on our heads for our interference; but they were too anxious to save their own lives to prevent us. Scarcely a minute was lost.
“Mount! mount! and ride on!” cried Ithulpo.
Throwing our knives to the Indians, we leaped on our horses, and again followed the direction we supposed the soldiers had taken. We had not proceeded many yards when the wall of sand seemed to wheel round like an extended line of infantry, and then to advance at double speed. To escape it by galloping from it was now hopeless; so we turned our horses’ heads to face it. As we did so, a clear break appeared in one part.
“Let us make for yonder lighter spot,” shouted my father.
We did so. On came the dark wall; the sand swept by us, whirling round and round our heads, blinding our eyes, and filling our ears and nostrils. It was with difficulty even that we could breathe, as with each respiration our mouths became choked with the sand. I endeavoured, as well as I was able, to keep close to my father, though for a time it was only by our voices, as we shouted to each other, that we were aware of each other’s position. We did our utmost to keep our horses’ heads in the direction the sand-storm came from, that
