He was as certain of that as he was of the fact that he was living, and searching for it.
Everything assured him of that; the towering masses of cleft rock, whole walls seeming about to crumble into ruin, the broad margins of pebbles along the creek--everything, to the very stillness and mystery in the air, spoke this as the abode of the skeletons' secret.
It was this inexplicable _something_--this unseen, mysterious element hovering in the air that caused the white youth to advance step by step, silently, cautiously, as though the slightest sound under his feet might awaken the deadliest of enemies.

And it was because of this stealth in his progress that he came very close upon something that was living, and without startling it.

Less than fifty yards ahead of him he saw an object moving slowly among the rocks.

It was a fox.

Even before the animal had detected his presence he had aimed and fired.
Thunderous echoes rose up about him.