Edward Maxwell, With the Connaught Rangers (1883)
“ Occasionally, when the heat seemed to have reached its highest pitch, the bearer would appear, and ask leave to roll up the outside verandah chicks, as a storm was coming. The air felt thick and heavy, and the breathless stillness was overpowering. In a moment all was changed, and a raging tempest was upon us. A dust-storm is a terrible sight—the whole atmosphere a red mass, a whirlwind of dust, and all as dark as night around. ”
