"Wha—what'd you—see?" the younger one gasped. Both men were now fully awake, but, disregarding the question, Joe cried, wildly:
"Who are you? What d'you want?" And then, when no answer came: "Christ!
SAY something."
'Poleon could hear the wretch moisten his dry lips; he could picture both men sitting bolt upright in their sleeping-bags; he could feel the terror that was creeping over them.
"Who'd you see?" Frank whispered again.
"S-something big! Right there! By God! Something's in here!"
Joe's tone was firmer now; nevertheless, fright still held him motionless, paralyzed. He was staring with blind eyes into the velvet blackness, and his flesh was rippling with a superstitious horror of that formless creature he had glimpsed. What was it that had walked in out of the night and now crouched ready to spring? Nothing human, nothing natural, that was sure.
Similar thoughts raced madly through his brother's brain, and the latter let forth a thin wail—almost a sob. The sound set Joe into motion. Swiftly but clumsily he fumbled through the dry grass with which his bunk was filled. He uttered a throaty curse, for he had laid his revolver by his side, right where his hand would fall upon it. Where was the thing—?
Joe's body turned rigid, his shaking fingers grew stiff and useless, when out of the darkness came a sigh—faint but unmistakable; whence it issued neither brother could tell.
With another shriek Frank fell back and burrowed into his sleeping-bag.