After the seventh tiger-owl had awakened and the inky blackness quivered with the witch-like shouting and hellish tumult, he felt her shoulder pressing against his. And bending to look into her face saw that all the colour in it had fled.
"You mustn't be frightened," he said earnestly.
"But I am. I'm sorry.... I'll try to accustom myself to it.... The darkness is a—a trifle terrifying—isn't it?"
"It's beautiful, too," he said, looking up at the firelit foliage overhead. She looked up also, her slender throat glimmering rosy in the embers' glare. After a moment she nodded:
"It is wonderful.... If I only had a little time to accustom myself to it I am sure I should love[48] it.... Oh! What was that very loud splash out there in the dark?"
"A big fish playing in the lagoon; or perhaps wild ducks feeding."
After a few minutes he felt her soft hand tighten within his.
"It sounds as though some great creature were prowling around our fire," she whispered. "Do you hear its stealthy tread?"
"Noises in the forest are exaggerated," he said carelessly. "It may be a squirrel or some little furry creature out hunting for his supper. Please don't be afraid."
"Then it isn't a bear?"