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Sandstorm!" exclaimed Jones, pointing desert-ward. Dark yellow clouds like smoke were rolling, sweeping, bearing down upon us. They expanded, blossoming out like gigantic roses, and whirled and merged into one another, all the time rolling on and blotting out the light. "We've got to run. That storm may last two days," yelled Frank to me. "We've had some bad ones lately.
"Of course not. Lacy said you knew the trail. It's a place they call 'Sunken Valley' out there somewhere," and Brennan could barely distinguish the movement of her arm desert-ward. "It's across that sand flat." "Shoshone?" "Yes; I couldn't remember the name. That's all I know about it, only Lacy said you'd been there before."
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