Readers won't find out what makes a hurricane but they'll learn how it feels to be in one from this adventure of Albie and Eldra on the island of St. John, who hurry when the warning flag goes up to help grandpa secure the house, boat and animals while father, a constable, goes off to pass the word. When the vines holding their home snap in the storm, the house breaks in two and the family is drenched and shaken in an earthquake. Then, in the calm of the eye, grandpa ties everyone to palm trees for the more terrible second siege. The narration is sharpened by small childish touches and observations -- the two children secure the cats inside their clothing as Mother has done with the baby, and the chickens, though they remain tied to the trees, have all their feathers blown off. Ann Grifalconi's baby-faced brown children in pink and blue are a bit saccharine (though less so inside than on the cover) and her island paintbox-pretty -- but the reaching, pointing, hauling figures are in constant urgent motion and the expressive curves, dynamic diagonals and turbulent background splashes make for a dramatic picture of the storm.