She was hearing them all the same and, coming as they did out of the night with the low murmur of the dark, rushing river as their accompaniment, they sounded weird indeed. Now came a roar close at hand, tom-tom-tom sharp and clear, and now from far away with the booms blended into one long roar.
“Night in the jungle,” Mary whispered.
“Crawl into your ship and forget it,” Sparky suggested. “We’ll be here in the morning.”
“Oh! I never could do that,” Janet exclaimed.
“All right,” said Sparky. “Then you girls keep the first watch and I’ll sleep. But first we’ll fix Don up as comfortable as we can.”
It was Don whose eyes first closed in slumber. With soft pneumatic cushions under him and a mosquito canopy to protect him and a soothing capsule to allay his pain, he was asleep before the others could arrange for the watches of the night.
Just as Sparky crept away to the Lone Star for three winks a bright golden moon came rolling along the fringe of the forest.
“Oh! That’s better!” Janet exclaimed.
Was it? It was not long before every shadow cast by the moon appeared to move and the darkened grass houses seemed alive with people.
“Ghosts,” Mary whispered. “Ghosts of native men and women who lived here long before we were born.”