“Long Gun ’fraid,” was the reply. “No like sound in dark night. Long Gun ’fraid.”
“But what sound was it?” persisted Jack.
“Dunno. Great Spirit, mebby. Bad sound. Trouble come.”
“That’s all nonsense,” said Jack, as he saw that his chums looked worried. “It was probably the wind.”
“But there isn’t any wind,” declared Nat. “It’s as still as can be.”
“Maybe there is a wind in the upper currents of air,” suggested Jack. “You must remember we’re among the mountains, and the air is different here.”
“It isn’t different enough to make a noise like that,” was Sam’s opinion.
“That’s right,” agreed Bony.
“Juthinkitwasacyclone?” asked Budge, all in one word.
“A cyclone?” repeated Jack. “They don’t have cyclones in the mountains. No, I think it was birds.”