Though there no longer existed any need of silence, hardly a word was spoken.

Something vast, imminent, overpowering, seemed to have laid its finger on the lips of all, to have muted them of speech.
The vacuum-lights, however, were now freely flashing in the little party, as it advanced directly toward the stockade.

The men clambered over rocks, through bushes, across fallen logs.

Rrisa stopped, suddenly, played his light on a little bundle of gray fur, and touched it with a curious finger.

It was a squirrel, curled into a tiny ball of oblivion.
Alden's foot narrowly missed the body of a sleeping robin.