"I certainly never heard of their doing so, returned Paul. "But still, you must remember, that cyclones are erratic things at the best."
"It looks as if it were coming directly this way."
"So it does, and I reckon the best thing we can do is to make tracks for some place of safety."
"That is true. Come on!"
Both boys sprang into the saddle and started up the trail. Hardly had a hundred feet of the way been covered than a strange rush and roar of wind filled the air.
"It's coming," shouted Paul. "Quick, Chet, down into that hollow before it strikes us!"
He plunged into the basin he had designated, which was six or eight feet below the level of the trail and not over ten yards in diameter. Chet followed, ducking low as he did so, for already was the air filled with flying branches.
"None too soon!" ejaculated Paul. "Down, Rush!"
Between them they managed to get the horse to lie down close to a wall of dirt and rocks. They lay near, waiting almost breathlessly for that awful time of peril to pass.
