It was easy for the travellers to follow the trail of the lasso. After a while they saw the cypress. But they didn't have enough time to reach it. The sky was now low and grey.

On the northern horizon suddenly appeared a number of ink-coloured columns — unlike anything ever seen before. They were changing size, shape and place all the time. From these columns came terrible noises. The travellers immediately felt danger. The shouts of people and screams of the mules and horses filled the air.

The noises were gradually growing louder. The danger, whatever it might be, was approaching too fast! The eyes of all were turned towards the low sky, and the black columns that were coming on to crush them!

At this critical moment a shout reached their ears from the opposite side. They turned to see a horseman. He was riding towards them. The horse was black as coal. The rider was black too, even the skin of his face. But it was easy to recognize him: he was the stranger they had met before.

’What is it?’ asked the planter in alarm. ’Is there a danger?'

'There is, Mr Poindexter. It's the norther. I didn't see it coming when I passed you. A norther is not usually so bad but this one... Look there! Do you see those black columns?'

'We’ve been wondering. We didn't know what to make of them.’

'They're nothing - just the first signs of the storm. Look at the sky! Don't you see a coal-black cloud? That's what you have to fear. A hurricane is coming this way, and you have no chance to escape it.'

'Good God! Is the danger so great? Can we do anything to avoid it?’

The stranger remained silent for a few seconds.

'Yes, we can!' he said. 'There is a chance. I didn't think about it before. Order your men to cover the horses and mules with blankets. The storm can make the animals blind, and they can go mad. When that's done, let all get inside the wagons.'

Poindexter gave the orders fast.

'And you, sir?' asked the planter.

'I know what's coming. It isn't the first time I have seen it. Get in! Quick, or the dust cloud will be around us!'

The planter and his son got into the carriage. Calhoun remained seated in his saddle. Why should he listen to some man dressed as a Mexican?

The stranger quickly took off his serape from the saddle and put it over the head of his horse. Then he covered his hat with a scarf. After that he turned once more towards the carriage. He was surprised to see Calhoun still in the saddle.

'Once again, sir, I ask you to get inside! If you don’t, you may be a dead man!'

Cassius Calhoun reluctantly slipped out of his saddle and got into the carriage.