The fish-hawks wheeled and screamed, and
sought their nests on the high dry trees; the crows flew clamorously
to the crevices of the rocks, and all nature seemed conscious of the
approaching thunder-gust.
The clouds now rolled in volumes over the mountain tops; their summits
still bright and snowy, but the lower parts of an inky blackness. The
rain began to patter down in broad and scattered drops; the wind
freshened, and curled up the waves; at length it seemed as if the
bellying clouds were torn open by the mountain tops, and complete
torrents of rain came rattling down. The lightning leaped from cloud
to cloud, and streamed quivering against the rocks, splitting and
rending the stoutest forest trees. The thunder burst in tremendous
explosions; the peals were echoed from mountain to mountain; they
crashed upon Dunderberg, and rolled up the long defile of the
highlands, each headland making a new echo, until old Bull hill seemed
to bellow back the storm.
For a time the scudding rack and mist, and the sheeted rain, almost
hid the landscape from the sight. There was a fearful gloom, illumined
still more fearfully by the streams of lightning which glittered among
the rain-drops. Never had Dolph beheld such an absolute warring of the
elements: it seemed as if the storm was tearing and rending its way
through this mountain defile, and had brought all the artillery of
heaven into action.
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