From outside there came the eerie hoot of an owl. Somewhere in the distance dogs were barking.
"There must be a farmhouse in the neighborhood after all," the director said, closing the door to Pendergrast's cabin.
But Matt, remembering the bull, said, "I wouldn't count on it, Isaac."
"Eh?" said Isaac.
"Dogs can run wild," Matt reminded him. "They're a hell of a sight less dangerous than bulls."
The next morning, it was decided that a party of five of the younger men should reconnoiter the immediate vicinity, being careful not to go so far that they couldn't make it back to the ship by dark.
"Be careful," the director admonished them. Matt, who was one of the party, noticed that Isaac Trigg's hands shook slightly. He had not shaved, and deep blue circles haunted his eyes. "The country hereabouts seems to be quite wild. We ..." the director bit his lip—"we may have come down in a plague area that has been segregated!"
The same thought had been uppermost in everyone's mind, but none of them had had the courage to express it.
"Don't," went on the director, "drink or eat anything except what you take along, and be careful about investigating deserted houses. That's all, I suppose—and good luck."