The sand is lifted upwards, and floats through the air in dun clouds, here settling down, and there rising up again.

I dare not face it, any more than I would the blast of the simoom.

I should be blinded if I did, or blistered by the "scud" of the angular atoms.

The "norther" continues for hours, sometimes for days.

It departs as suddenly as it came, carrying its baneful influence to lands farther south.
It is past, and the sand-hills have assumed a different shape.