. San Nicola [numero]. Il airand volato a pezzi come se fosse stata blownup dalla Dynamite. Mi ricordo come il fieno whirledand issata sotto i miei piedi. Vi è stata una rottura crashof legni. Ho visto il tetto split wideopen e volare da sopra la mia testa. E poi veniva sollevato e scaraventato in aria con il midstof battenti di fieno e relitto - e ho saputo che non di più. Esso deve essere stato ma a pochi minuti laterwhen ho aperto i miei occhi. L'urlo del windhad cessato. Forse era questo contrasto di ancora-ness che mi riporta alla coscienza. Iwas nel buio assoluto e, quando ho attemptedto Libera me, trovato

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. St. Nicholas [serial]. the airand flew to pieces as though it had been blownup by dynamite. I remember how the hay whirledand heaved under my feet. There was a crashof breaking timbers. I saw the roof split wideopen and fly from over my head. And then Iwas lifted and hurled through the air in the midstof flying hay and wreckage —and I knew no more. It must have been but a few minutes laterwhen I opened my eyes. The howl of the windhad ceased. Perhaps it was this contrast of still-ness that brought me back to consciousness. Iwas in absolute darkness, and, when I attemptedto free myself, found that I was wound aboutwith the hay as though with a blanket; only myhead and my left arm were free. Bruised andsore, I attempted to loose myself. I was held asin a vise. I now began to feel about with my free arm.The open space about my head was perhaps threefeet wide. I could not tell how far it extendedbehind me. When I put my hand above my face, it came in contact with one of the sills of the I9i6.] THE CYCLONE 517. THERE WAS A CRASH OF BREAKING TIMBERS. mow, which undoubtedly had lieen torn loosefrom the rest of the frame, for it ])assed aboveme at a sharp slant. When the barn went topieces, the hay probably had rolled over like adoubled mattress, catching me between the twohalves, and it was this piece of timljer that hadprevented the tons of hay, piled atop of it, fromcovering me up and smothering me instantly. Finding my efforts to free myself useless, I laystill and listened for some sound from the out-side world. At first I thought I could hear thetwittering of a bird, then all was silent. I beganto think of what had befallen me. It was likethe end of the world. No doubt the hired handand the mail-carrier had been killed by fallingtimbers; and as for my own position, it wascheerless in the extreme. There seemed littlehope of my escape. The air in the hole, more-over, was thick with dust from the hay; and un-less there was some seepage from the outside, itwas only a q

Parole chiave associate all'immagine

• bookauthordodgemar
• bookcentury1800
• bookdecade1870
• bookyear1873