ght to the interior, one
sash was gone altogether, the aperture being completely denuded of every
vestige of woodwork, while the other was protected only by a battered
and weather-stained wooden shutter. The edifice itself was constructed
of sods, the roof being roughly framed together with branches--no doubt
lopped from the trees of the neighbouring wood--and thatched.

I reached the building only just in time. While yet a hundred yards or
so from it, the cool night-breeze dropped all in a moment, and was
succeeded by a hushed and breathless calm. An awful silence suddenly
fell upon nature, the myriad insect voices became mute, the night-birds
ceased to utter their melancholy cries, the sighing of the wind through
the trees of the distant wood was no longer heard; a hush of dread
expectancy ensued. A few seconds elapsed, and then a mysterious murmur
filled the air, the trees swayed and tossed their branches wildly for a
moment, a fierce gust of hot air swept past, and all was still again. I
dashed forward and reached the doorway, and as I passed across the
threshold, the canopy of cloud overhead was rent open, a blinding flash
of livid lightning blazed out, illumining for a single instant the whole
landscape, as well as the interior of the building, and at the same
instant came a deafening crash, such as might occur were the universe
suddenly to crumble into ruin. So near was the lightning that I really
fancied (if it _was_ fancy and not fact after all) I could feel it
scorch my cheek, and there could be no doubt whatever about the strong
sulphurous smell which pervaded the atmosphere.

Again and yet again flashed forth the terrible lightning, crash on crash
came the thunder, and then the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and
the rain came rushing down in a perfect torrent.

I expected nothing less than to be speedily flooded out, but fortunately
the roof of the hut proved weather-tight, and the rain happening to beat
upon the back of the house, in which were no openings, the interior of
the place remained perfectly dry.

I took advantage of the frequent lightning-flashes to survey the
interior of my place of shelter, which I ascertained to be entirely
devoid of furniture of every kind, there being absolutely nothing in the
place except a heap of wood in one corner, composed of dry twigs and
branches, probably gathered from the adjacent forest.

I stood in the doorway for some time, watching the magnificent