The wind freshened and a heated counter-current from
the desert met it and they whirled away, rustling through the grassy
country.
The Arab reduced his gallop so suddenly that Kenkenes was jolted. The
small peaked ears of the horse went up and he showed a disposition to
move sidewise into the meadow growth beside the way.
"A wild beast hath taken the road," Kenkenes thought.
The horse brought up, with a start, his prominent muscles twitching,
and sniffed the air strongly.
A high oscillation in the atmosphere descended on Kenkenes.
The Arab reared, snorting, and then crouched, quivering with wild
terror in every limb.
Unconscious, even of the movement, Kenkenes threw up his arm as if to
ward off the blow and bent upon his horse's neck.
Gust after gust of icy air swept down on his head, as if winnowed by
frozen wings. Then with a backward waft, colder than any wind he had
ever known, the hovering Presence passed.
Instantly the horse plunged and took the road toward Tanis as if stung
by a lash. Kenkenes, shaken and full of solemn dread, did well to keep
his saddle. He grasped the stout leather bridle with strong hands, but
he might have curbed the hurricane as easily. The Arab stretched his
gaunt length, running low, and the haunted night reechoed with the
sound of his hoofs.
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