He heard the cry of a wolf, and then a like cry replying, but he knew that the sounds came from the throats of warriors.

He pressed himself a little harder against the stony wall, and looked at his two young comrades.

Their souls still wandered in the pleasant land of dreams and their bodies took no interest in what was occurring here.
They did not stir.
In four or five minutes the two cries were repeated much nearer and the hunter fairly concentrated all his powers into the organ of hearing.

Faint voices, only whispers, floated down to him, and he knew that the warriors were ranging along the cliff just above them.
Leaning forward cautiously, he peeped above the veil of evergreens, and saw two dark faces gazing over the edge of the precipice.

A brief look was enough, then he drew back and waited..