ld easily have been mistaken
for solid columns, standing for a time in one place, then stalking over
the summits of the hills, or suddenly breaking into confused and
cumbering masses; while the heavier particles, no longer kept in
suspension by the rotatory whirl, might be seen spilling back towards
the earth, like a sand-shower projected downward through some gigantic
"screen."

In the midst of this turbulent tempest of wind and sand--with not a
single drop of rain,--the castaways continued to sleep.

One might suppose--as did the old man-o'-war's-man before going to
sleep--that they were not in any danger; not even as much as if their
couch had been under the roof of a house, or strewn amid the leaves of
the forest. There were no trees to be blown down upon them, no bricks
nor large chimney-pots to come crashing through the ceiling, and crush
them as they lay upon their beds.

What danger could there be among the "dunes?"

Not much to a man awake, and with open eyes. In such a situation, there
might be discomfort, but no danger.

Different however, was it with the slumbering castaways. Over them a
peril was suspended--a real peril--of which perhaps, on that night not
one of them was dreaming--and in which, perhaps, not one of them would
have put belief,--but for the experience of it they were destined to be
taught before the morning.

Could an eye have looked upon them as they lay, it would have beheld a
picture sufficiently suggestive of danger. It would have seen four human
figures stretched along the bottom of a narrow ravine, longitudinally
aligned with one another--their heads all turned one way, and in point
of elevation slightly _en echelon_--it would have noted that these forms
were asleep, that they were already half buried in sand, which,
apparently descending from the clouds was still settling around them;
and that, unless one or other of them awoke, all four should certainly
become "smoored."

What does this mean? Merely a slight inconvenience arising from having
the mouth, ears, and nostrils obstructed by sand, which a little
choking, and sneezing, and coughing would soon remove.

Ask the Highland shepherd who has imprudently gone to sleep under the
"blowin' sna'"; question the Scandinavian, whose calling compels him to
encamp on the open "fjeld"; interrogate Swede or Norwegian, Finn or
Lapp, and you may discover the danger of being "smoored."

That would be in the snow,--the light, vascular, p