insurgents might not regain any of the lost territory.
It was frightfully hot, but scarcely had Major Morris left with his party than a faint breeze sprang up which gradually increased to a fair-sized wind. Making Gilbert as comfortable as possible under some of the tallest of the cane, Ben and Sorrel sat down beside him to do what they could to help him forget his pain.
The three had been sitting in the shade for the best part of half an hour, and Sorrel was sharpening his knife on the side leather of his shoe, when, glancing up, Ben noticed a peculiar cloud in the sky overhead.
"That looks rather queer," he remarked. "Does that denote a wind-storm. Sorrel?"
"It denotes something, that's sartin," responded the mountaineer, surveying the cloud with care. "It's something I ain't seed out yere yit," and he leaped to his feet.
The cloud was about as large as a barrel in appearance, and of a deep black color. It seemed to be whirling around and around, and as it came forward began to expand. Then it shot off to the southward, but not out of sight.
