I intend to live to write a book on Mur," and Higgs shook his fist at the advancing clouds with an air that was really noble.

It reminded me of Ajax defying the lightning.
Meanwhile I had been reflecting.
"Listen," I said.

"Our only chance is to stop where we are, for if we move we shall certainly be buried alive.

Look; there is something solid to lie on," and I pointed to a ridge of rock, a kind of core of congealed sand, from which the surface had been swept by gales.

"Down with you, quick," I went on, "and let's draw that lion-skin over our heads.