a brief space, they were none the wiser.

All around the aeromotor rose a wall of whirling winds, seemingly
impenetrable, apparently within reach of an extended arm,
changing colour with each fraction of a second, hideously
beautiful, yet never twice the same in blend or mixture.

A hollow, strangely sounding roar was perceptible; one instant
coming as from the far distance, then from nigh at hand, causing
the air-ship to quiver and tremble, as a sentient being might in
the presence of a torturing death.

"Look--upward!" panted Bruno, a few seconds later, his face as
pale as that of a corpse, in spite of the dirt and blotches of
sticky mud with which he had been peppered during that dizzy
whirl.

Mechanically his companions in peril obeyed, catching breath
sharply, as they saw a clear sky and yellow sunshine far
above,--so awfully far they were, that it seemed like looking
upward from the bottom of an enormously deep well.

And then the marvellous truth flashed upon the brain of Phaeton
Featherwit, almost robbing him of all power of speech. Still he
managed to jerkily ejaculate:

"We're inside,--riding the--tornado--itself!"

Then those whirling winds closed quickly above them, shutting out
the sunlight, hiding the heavens from their view, enclosing that