But for the swirl of the sandstorm, and the dust already in their eyes, they might have been able to give a better description of the creature that had so unceremoniously stepped upon them. These impediments, however, had hindered them from obtaining a fair view of it; and some animal, grotesquely shaped, with a long neck, body, and legs, was the image which remained in the excited minds of the awakened sleepers.
Whatever it was, they were all sufficiently frightened to stand for some time trembling. Just awakening from such dreams, it was but natural they should surrender themselves to strange imaginings; and, instead of endeavouring to identify the odd-looking animal, if animal it was, they were rather inclined to set it down as some creature of a supernatural kind.
The three midshipmen were but boys; not so long from the nursery as to have altogether escaped from the weird influence which many a nursery tale had wrapped around them; and as for Old Bill, fifty years spent in “ploughing the ocean” had only confirmed him in the belief that the “black art” is not so mythical as philosophers would have us think.
So frightened were all four that, after the first ebullition of their surprise had subsided, they no longer gave utterance to speech but stood listening, and trembling as they listened. Perhaps, had they known the service which the intruder had done for them, they might have felt gratitude towards it, instead of the suspicion and dread that for some moments kept them, as if spell-bound, in their places. It did not occur to any of the party that that strange summons from sleep, more effective than the half-whispered invitation of a valet-de-chambre, or the ringing of a breakfast-bell, had, in all probability, rescued them from a silent but certain death.
They stood, as I have said, listening. There were several distinct sounds that saluted their ears. There was the “sough” of the sea, as it came swelling up the gorge; the “whish” of the wind, as it impinged upon the crests of the ridges; and the “swish” of the sand as it settled round them.
All these were voices of inanimate objects, phenomena of nature, easily understood. But, rising above them, were heard sounds of a different character; which, though they might be equally natural, were not equally familiar to those who listened to them.
There was a sort of dull battering, as if some gigantic creature was performing a Terpsichorean feat upon the sand-bank above them; but sharper sounds were heard at intervals, screams commingled with short snortings, both proclaiming something of the nature of a struggle.
Neither in the screams nor in the snortings was there anything that the listeners could identify as sounds they had ever heard before. They were alike perplexing to the ears of English, Irish, and Scotch. Even Old Bill, who had heard, some time or other, nearly every sound known in creation, could not classify them.
“Divil take him!” whispered he to his companions; “I dinna know what to make av it. It be hawful to ’ear em!”
“Hark!” ejaculated Harry Blount.