“And I’d hate to leave just in case that was a plane from Unhao, looking for us. Or, as you said, it just could be Uncle Charlie.”
The boys sat down by the fire. Biff ate his food slowly. The minutes became an hour. Another hour passed. Chuba had curled up in his long cloak, and was sound asleep. Biff looked at the sleeping boy, and felt a yawn stretching over his face.
He stirred the fire, pulled his long cloak firmly about him, and curled up too. He didn’t think he could sleep—his mind was too filled with thoughts about the plane. But Biff’s resistance to sleep was mostly in his mind, not in his body. Tired—he always seemed tired these days—he dropped off to sleep in seconds.
How long he slept, Biff didn’t know. But he did know that something had awakened him. He opened his eyes. He listened. He thought he heard a sound just behind a nearby stunted tree.
“Chuba.” He poked his companion. “Chuba, wake up.”
Chuba stirred, rolled over, and opened his eyes to look into Biff’s face. “What is it, Biff?”
“I think somebody’s watching us. From just outside the ring of the fire’s light.”
Both boys remained silent. Nothing happened. Then the sound came again. Someone, or something, was certainly watching them. Biff could hear his own heart beat. He looked in the direction of the sound. A huge figure stepped from behind the tree. As it walked toward the fire, its dancing shadow became that of a giant.
“Well, fancy meeting you here!” the giant said.
“Muscles!”