The joggling was not conducive to the best vocal expression, but the singer persevered: "Hosanna in the highest, Hosanna to your King!" Flash! the lightning cut through the storm-clouds, and Bob, who had contented himself with a subdued whistling while he listened, took up the refrain: "Jerusalem, Jerusalem." It was as if a battery of heavy field pieces boomed overhead.

The entire herd was on its feet and stood close-huddled, their tails to the coming storm.

Now the horses were loping steadily in their endless circling--a pace they could hold for hours if need be.

For one blinding instant Thurston saw far down the valley; then the black curtain dropped as suddenly as it had lifted.
"Keep a-hollering, Bud!" came the command, and after it Bob's voice trilled high above the thunder-growl: "Hosanna in the high-est.
Hosanna to your King!" A strange thrill of excitement came to Thurston.

It was all new to him; for his life had been sheltered from the rages of nature.