I was still flying onward without the aid of wings.
There seemed no end to that interminable flight.
At length, when I least expected a change, I was suddenly cast to the bottom of a deep pit.

The luxury of repose to my wounded and exhausted frame, was as grateful and refreshing as the dews of heaven to the long parched earth.

I lay in a sort of pleasing helplessness, too glad to escape from past perils to imagine a recurrence of the same evil.
While dreamily watching the swallows, tending their young in the holes of the sandy bank that formed the walls of my prison, I observed the sand at the bottom of the pit caught up in little eddies and whirling round and round.

A sickening feeling of dread stole over me, and I crouched down in an agony of fear, and clung with all my strength to the tufts of thorny shrubs which clothed the sides of the pit.
Again the wind-fiend caught me up on his broad pinions, and I was once more traversing with lightning speed the azure deserts of air.

A burning heat was in my throat--my eyes seemed bursting from their sockets; confused sounds were murmuring in my ears, and the very blackness of darkness swallowed me up.