Ear pressed to earth; then rose and shook his head
As one perplexed. “There’s something wrong,” he said.
And—as at daybreak whiten winter skies,
Agape and staring with a wild surmise—
The lad’s face whitened at the other’s word.
Jules could not quite interpret what he heard;
A hundred horse might noise their whereabouts
In just that fashion; yet he had his doubts.
It could be bison moving, quite as well.
But if ‘twere Rees—there’d be a tale to tell