A wind had risen and was whispering over the plains; he heard the hushed voices of the quivering poplar boughs, and there came from far below him the soft, chuckling, mating hoot of an owl.

Gradually his eyes closed, and he leaned more heavily upon the rock against which he had seated himself.

After that he dreamed of what he had looked upon, while the fire at the camp died away, and Mukoki and Wabigoon slumbered, oblivious of his absence.
Of how long he slept Rod had no idea.

He was suddenly brought back into wakefulness by a sound that startled him to the marrow of his bones, a terrible scream close to his ears.

He sat bolt upright, quaking in every limb.