"It was Woonga who gave the cry.

He has lived for eleven years and I have never known him to fail." There was an uneasy gleam in his eyes.
"I must tie your hands, M'seur." "But I have given you my word, Jean--" "Your hands, M'seur.

There is already death below us in the plain, or it is to come very soon.

I must tie your hands." Howland thrust his wrists behind him and about them Jean twisted a thong of babeesh.
"I believe I understand," he spoke softly, listening again for the chilling wail from the mountain top.

"You are afraid that I will kill you." "It is a warning, M'seur.