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 great, hoarse, rumbling cough, like that of some huge giant.

The people stood still and listened! There was another sound like the first, but heavier, more convulsive.

Then a great flash of fire shot up from the mountain top, and fell again. Then another, and another, and each time the fire leaped higher.

"Let us run!" cried the people. "Let us run!" Even as they spoke there was a great burst of fire and smoke, and huge stones were thrown high in the air, and a stream came pouring down the side of the mountain—a stream that looked like liquid fire.

Then the Indians ran, indeed, and there was no time to save anything but their own lives!

Many streams followed the first one, coming like fiery serpents down the mountain side, and above were heavy smoke clouds, shot with bursting rocks.

Far away the Indian people ran, crying, "The Fire Spirit is angry! What have we done that he should destroy our homes?"

At last they stopped, and turned to look back at the fire mountain. The flames were gone: only a cloud of smoke hung about. But the