and all the while the hot , dusty wind blew and blew into temeraire 's nostrils , and his eyes , and the red sand gritted upon his hide and collected in small pockets as his wings rolled through each stroke , and itched ; and the men in the belly-netting muttered low and sullenly of home , and called out now and again to try and wheedle a halt for `` a little grog , sir ; it is downright inhuman , in this heat . ''