Not until he was almost on a line between the body and the mouth of the gully did he find a clue. Clearly imprinted on the clean level was the outline of a huge claw. There were the five talons and the nub of the foot. A little forward and to one side was a similar mark, except that it was slanted differently.
Step by step, with starting eyes and shuddering mind, Haynes followed the trail. Then he became aware of a second, confusing the first, the track of the same creature. At first the second track was distinct, then it merged with the first, only to diverge again. The talons were turned in the direction opposite to the first spoor. From the body of Serdholm to the soft sand stretched the unbroken lines. Nowhere else within a radius of many yards was there any other indication. The sand lay blank as a white sheet of paper; as blank as the observer’s mind, which struggled with one stupefying thought: that between the body of the dead life-saver and the refuge of the cliff no creature had passed except one that stalked on monstrous, taloned feet.
Sitting down upon the beach, Haynes reasoned with himself aloud: “This thing,” he said, “cannot be so. You ought not to have sent the others away. Someone in full command of his eyesight and faculties should be here.”
Then, the detective instinct holding faithful, he hastily gathered some flat rocks and covered the nearest tracks, in case of rain. A field sparrow hopped out on the rubble and watched him.
“To-morrow,” said Haynes to the sparrow, “I’ll pick up those rocks and find nothing under them. Then I’ll know that this was a phantasm. I wonder if you’re an illusion.”
Selecting the smallest stone, he threw it at the sparrow. With a shriek of insulted surprise the bird flew away. Haynes produced a pencil, with which he drew, upon the back of an envelope, a rough but pretty accurate map of the surroundings. He was putting on his shoes when Bruce came out of the gully.
“See anything?” called Haynes.
“Nothing moving to the northward,” replied Bruce, approaching. “Have you found anything?”
“Not that you could call definite. Don’t cross the sand there. Keep along down. We’ll go to Sand Spit and report this.”
But the man was staring beyond the little column of rock shelters.