We Had Hardly Got Indoors Before The Tempest Broke In Its Full Fury, A Blackness As Of Night, A Blended Uproar Of Thunder And Wind, Blinding Flashes Of Lightning, And Torrents Of Rain.

Then as the first thick darkness began to pass away, we saw that the air was white with falling hailstones of an extraordinary size and appearance.

They were big as fowls' eggs, but not egg-shaped: they were flat, and about half-an-inch thick, and being white, looked like little blocks or bricklets made of compressed snow. The hail continued falling until the earth was white with them, and in spite of their great size they were driven by the furious wind into drifts two or three feet deep against the walls of the buildings.

It was evening and growing dark when the storm ended, but the light next morning revealed the damage we had suffered. Pumpkins, gourds, and water-melons were cut to pieces, and most of the vegetables, including the Indian corn, were destroyed. The fruit trees, too, had suffered greatly. Forty or fifty sheep had been killed outright, and hundreds more were so much hurt that for days they went limping about or appeared stupefied from blows on the head. Three of our heifers were dead, and one horse - an old loved riding-horse with a history, old Zango - the whole house was in grief at his death! He belonged originally to a cavalry officer who had an extraordinary affection for him - a rare thing in a land where horseflesh was too cheap, and men as a rule careless of their animals and even cruel.

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