Chapter 1. The Tornado.

Dorothy lived on the vast Kansas prairies with Uncle Henry, a farmer, and Aunt Em, his wife. Their house was small because lumber had to be brought by wagon from far away. It had four walls, a floor, and a roof, forming a single room. Inside stood a rusty cookstove, a cupboard for dishes, a table, several chairs, and the beds. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em shared a large bed in one corner, while Dorothy had a small bed in another.

There was no attic at all and no basement—only a small hole in the ground called a tornado cellar. The family used it for shelter when powerful tornadoes came, strong enough to destroy any building. A trapdoor in the middle of the floor led to the dark, cramped space below, with a ladder for climbing down.

When Dorothy stood in the doorway, she saw nothing but the vast, gray prairie stretching all around. No trees or houses interrupted the endless flat land reaching the sky in every direction.

The sun had baked the soil into a cracked, gray surface. 

Even the grass wasn't green because the sun had scorched its blades until they matched the dull gray everywhere. The house had once been painted, but the sun blistered the paint, and rain washed it away. Now, the house looked as lifeless and gray as everything else.

When Aunt Em first moved there, she was a young and pretty wife. But the sun and wind changed her. They took the sparkle from her eyes, leaving them a dull gray. They drained the red from her cheeks and lips, making them gray too. She became thin and gaunt and never smiled anymore. When Dorothy, an orphan, first arrived, her laughter startled Aunt Em so much that she would gasp and press her hand against her chest. Even now, she watched Dorothy with amazement, unable to understand what there was to laugh about.

Uncle Henry never laughed. He worked from morning until night and did not understand joy.

He was gray too, from his long beard to his rough boots. He looked serious and stern and spoke only rarely.

It was Toto that made Dorothy laugh and kept her from becoming as gray as everything around her. He was not gray—he was a small black dog with long, silky hair and bright black eyes that sparkled beside his tiny, funny nose. Toto played all day, and Dorothy played with him, loving him dearly.

Today, however, they were not playing. Uncle Henry sat on the doorstep, watching the sky with worry. It was even grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the doorway, holding Toto in her arms, and looked up too. Aunt Em was busy washing the dishes.

From the far north, they heard the wind's low wail. Uncle Henry and Dorothy watched as the tall grass bent in waves before the approaching storm. A sharp whistling sound now came from the south. When they turned, they saw ripples moving through the grass from that direction too.

Suddenly, Uncle Henry stood up.

"There's a tornado coming, Em," he shouted to his wife. "I'll go check on the stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and horses were kept.

Aunt Em dropped her work and rushed to the door. One look told her the danger was near.

"Quick, Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run to the cellar!"

Toto jumped from Dorothy's arms and hid under the bed, and she hurried to get him.

Terrified, Aunt Em flung open the trapdoor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark hole.

Dorothy finally caught Toto and ran toward the cellar. But when she was halfway across the room, the wind let out a great shriek.

The house shook so violently that she lost her balance and fell suddenly onto the floor. 

Then a strange thing happened.

The house spun around two or three times and slowly lifted into the air. Dorothy felt like she was rising in a balloon.

The north and south winds met where the house stood, placing it at the exact center of the tornado. In the middle of a tornado, the air is usually calm, but the powerful winds pushed against the house from all sides. They lifted it higher and higher until it reached the highest point of the tornado. There, it remained, carried for miles like a feather in the wind.

It was very dark, and the wind howled fiercely around her, but Dorothy realized she was riding quite smoothly.

After the first few spins—and one moment when the house nearly overturned—she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a baby in a cradle.

Toto did not like it. He ran around the room, dashing back and forth, barking loudly. But Dorothy sat still on the floor and waited to see what would happen.

Once, Toto got too close to the open trapdoor and fell in. At first, Dorothy thought she had lost him. But soon, she saw one of his ears poking up through the hole—the strong air pressure was holding him up, preventing him from falling.

She crawled to the hole, grabbed Toto by the ear, and pulled him back into the room. Then she shut the trapdoor to prevent any more accidents like this.

Hour after hour passed, and slowly Dorothy calmed down a bit.

But she felt lonely, and the wind shrieked so loudly around her that she nearly went deaf.

At first, she wondered if she would be crushed when the house finally fell. But as time passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped worrying and decided to wait calmly and see what would come next.

At last, she crawled across the swaying floor to her bed and lay down. Toto followed and curled up beside her.

Despite the rocking house and the wailing wind, Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell asleep right away.
