Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 116: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

742 say it is because of rugged strength and lofty sublimity of character; others, because their tops are invariably of solid granite. But the feminine quality of the desert is beyond question. She is the Theda Bara of Nature’s movie show—a sleek and shining tigress basking in the sunshine, but ready in a second to turn and rend you, or in her moments of greatest fury to pause and fondle you, uncertain, mysterious, always pulling a surprise when you least expect it. In none of her manifestations is she more ruthless and devastating than with a sand- storm. The hapless wayfarer who is caught by it away from shelter is buffeted, beaten, stung and peppered by a volleying sweep of small particles from every direction, raked as by flying bullets, blinded, choked, knocked down, There is no recourse except to lie flat upon the surface; and that is swirling and undu- lating and heaving like the waters of a maelstrom. The sun and sky are blotted out; the air thick with sand and hot as an oven is impossible to breathe. One stifles and suffocates. It is black as midnight all around; there is a deafening uproar and turmoil—a banging and shrieking and how!l- ing as of ten thousand devils. The bat- tling winds scoop up great masses of sand and hurl them at each other, sometimes burying unfortunate travelers under the weight of tons. But there is another peril beside that of being smothered or buried alive. Often in the wake of a sandstorm are found corpses, blackened, charred, shriveled as if a wave of white-hot flame had passed over them; victims, it is supposed, of some peculiar electric demonstration which accompanies these cyclonic convulsions. Almost as awesome, too, as its riot of death and fury is the suddenness, the utter lack of warning with which a sandstorm comes. Ten minutes before, as Bob and Faith plodded along, the sun had been shining from a cloudless sky, and there had been no more than the whisper of a breeze. The wide, barren plain stretched like a sea of gold as far as the eye could reach. And now their vision was restricted to a rapidly narrowing circle hardly a mile ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. across. Earth and sky were both of a murky, copper hue. The wind was shriek- ing so that they had to raise their voices to a shout to make themselves heard above it. “Not a chance for us!” muttered Faith as her gaze swept hopelessly from their ex- posed position to the advancing simoon. “ It’s going to be terrific!” “Tf only I hadn’t stubbed my toe,” groaned Bob, although what difference that made it would have been hard to tell. A bellowing gust of wind swept over them, almost carrying them off their feet and filling their eyes, mouths and noses with sand, “Crouch down! Crouch down!” screamed Faith. “ And muffle your head in your coat. That is your only hope.” She thought he did not understand, and caught his arm to drag him down beside her. Already she had stepped out of her skirt and had it wrapped over her head and shoulders like a burnoose. But Bob: resisted her efforts. He was standing, staring fixedly off to the left, peer- ing through the murk, “ T saw the gleam of water!” he declared. “Just for a second, as the light shifted. Then it was gone, blotted out.” “Water?” She flung her arms in ex- postulation. ‘“ There’s none within twenty miles, Get down!” as he still stood, gazing. “You saw nothing. A mirage perhaps? A trick of the light?” “No!” he shouted. “ There it is again. Look!” The desert had sprung another of its be- wildering surprises. Through the gloom and darkness of the storm, a rift of sunlight played like a moving finger; and where it pointed one could see the banks of a shal- low ravine through the soil, and the sparkle of running water. So narrow was the stream that in the clear daylight, with that whole shimmering, sun- lit plain to fill the eye, one could easily pass it by unnoticed; but in the obscurity and darkness that one shaft of radiance brought it out in bold relief. It was like the play of a spotlight upon a dimly lit stage. “ It can’t be true!” Faith gasped. “ It’s an illusion.”’ But Bob did not stop to argue the ques- COmMicloookKks (C@