“Nothing like them. It beats me what it can be. I never heard such a sound.”
“It gives me cold shivers,” confessed Jack.
“Maybe it is only a wildcat,” said Tom, regaining his nerve which had been badly shaken by his sudden awakening and the ghastly cries.
“Doesn’t sound much like one,” objected Jack; “it sounds more like—more like——”
He broke off short, for now something occurred that made each boy feel as if his hair was standing on end and ice water being poured in liberal quantities down his spine.
“There is death in the snows, death-death-death-to-all-who-brave-the-trail!”
“Gracious!” gasped Jack; “it’s a ger-ger-ghost!”
“Nonsense,” said Tom sharply.
Although he was badly scared himself, he kept his nerve better than his younger brother, but the sepulchral voice made him shudder as he listened.
The uncanny sound of the wailing chant died out. Then fell a deep silence, broken only by the sighing of the night wind.