“Isn’t it strange?” said Dean, after walking in and out amongst the trees for some twenty yards.
“Strange, yes,” replied Mark. “Why, it wants a couple of hours to mid-day, and we might fancy that it only wanted a couple of hours to midnight. Well, let’s go a little farther.”
“Very well,” replied Dean, stepping out; “but we could not see Mak if he was close at hand.”
“No, but we shall hear him directly. He will try to cooey, and he will as soon as he has caught the little black chap. I say, didn’t he scuttle along just like a rabbit!”
“Yes, but I say, let’s keep together, for I am sure we shall lose ourselves directly.”
“Oh, we shan’t lose ourselves; but let’s keep on quite straight.”
“How are we to keep on quite straight when we can’t get along without winding in and out?”
“That’s true,” said Mark; “but I say, do took upward! What trees! What a height! Just stand still and listen for a minute or two. We may get a shot at some beautiful bird such as we have never seen before.”
They paused and listened, went on, and stopped, and listened again, and then made a fresh halt, making the backs of their necks ache with having to stare straight up in trying to pierce the dense foliage which shut out the sunlight sky.
But there was no rustle of bird or buzz of insect; all was profound silence. And this, joined to the deep gloom, affected both the boys in a similar way, for they cocked their pieces, which rarely left their hands, and the sound was so dull and shut in that a curious creepy feeling affected them.