" A mile further on
the storm burst with the fury of a hurricane. The wind roared down upon
them like a blast from hell. Daylight blotted out, and where a moment
before the sun had hung like a burnished brazen shield, was only a dim
lightening of the impenetrable fog of grey-black dust. The girl opened
her eyes and instantly they seemed filled with a thousand needles that
bit and seared and caused hot stinging tears to well between the
tight-closed lids. She gasped for breath and her lips and tongue went
dry. Sand gritted against her teeth as she closed them, and she tried in
vain to spit the dust from her mouth. She was aware that someone was
tying the scarf about her head, and close against her ear she heard the
voice of the Texan: "Breathe through your nose as long as you can an'
then through your teeth. Hang onto your saddle-horn, I've got your
reins. An' whatever you do, keep your eyes shut, this sand will cut 'em
out if you don't." She turned her face for an instant toward the west,
and the sand particles drove against her exposed forehead and eyelids
with a force that caused the stinging tears to flow afresh. Then she
felt her horse move slowly, jerkily at first, then more easily as the
Texan swung him in beside his own.
"We're all right now," he shouted at the top of his lungs to make himself
heard above the roar of the wind.
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