The air was heavy, cold, and still, like cave air; the silence as blank and awful as the silence beneath the earth.
The minister and I stole through the dusk, and for a long time heard nothing but our own breathing and the beating of our hearts.

But coming to a sluggish stream, as quiet as the wood through which it crept, and following its slow windings, we at last heard a voice, and in the distance made out dark forms sitting on the earth beside that sombre water.

We went on with caution, gliding from tree to tree and making no noise.

In the cheerless silence of that place any sound would have shattered the stillness like a pistol shot.
Presently we came to a halt, and, ourselves hidden by a giant trunk, looked out on stealers and stolen.

They were gathered on the bank of the stream, waiting for the boat from the Santa Teresa.