The air was full of
falling rocks, trees, splinters, and thick clouds of dust that turned
the water yellow in the lightning flashes. The mast went crashing over
and a lemon tree descended to take its place. Great streams of lava
poured down out of the air, and masses of opaque matter plunged into the
sea all about the falukah. Scalding mud, stones, hail, fell upon the
deck.

And still the fishing-boat, gyrating like a leaf, remained afloat with
its crew of half-crazed Arabs. Suffocated, stunned, scalded, petrified
with fear, they lay among the mullet while the falukah raced along in
its wild dance with death. Mohammed recalls seeing what he thought to be
a great cliff rush by close beside them. The falukah plunged over a
waterfall and was almost submerged, was caught again in a maelstrom, and
went twirling on in the blackness. They all were deathly sick, but were
too terrified to move.

And then the nearer roaring ceased. The air was less congested. They
were still showered with sand, clods of earth, twigs, and pebbles, it is
true, but the genii had stopped hurling mountains at each other. The
darkness became less opaque, the water smoother. Soon they could see the
moon through the clouds of settling dust, and gradually they could
discern the stars. The falukah was rocking gently upon a broad expanse
of muddy ocean, surrounded by a yellow scum broken here and there by a
floating tree. The _Fiala_ had vanished. No light shone upon the face of
the waters. But death had not overtaken them. Overcome by exhaustion and
terror Mohammed lay among the mullet, his legs entangled in the lemon
tree. Did he dream it? He cannot tell. But as he lost consciousness he
thinks he saw a star shooting toward the north.

When he awoke the falukah lay motionless upon a boundless ochre sea.
They were beyond sight of land. Out of a sky slightly dim the sun burned
pitilessly down, sending warmth into their bodies and courage to their
hearts. All about them upon the water floated the evidences of the
cataclysm of the preceding night--trees, shrubs, dead birds, and the
distorted corpse of a camel. Kneeling without their prayer rugs among
the mullet they raised their voices in praise of Allah and his Prophet.

VII

Within twenty-four hours of the destruction of the Mountains of Atlas by
the Flying Ring and the consequent flooding of the Sahara, the official
gazettes and such newspapers as were still published announced that the
Power