There was no need to listen—the din could not be ignored. The croaking of millions of frogs, the honk of sand-hill cranes, and the screeching of innumerable owls rose up from the darkness about them.
"Sounds like they were all saying their prayers at once and getting ready to go to sleep," said Walter, with a laugh.
"And that's just what they are doing," said McCarty. "Step outside of the circle of firelight with me, and take a look around."
The three stepped out a few paces from the fire and gazed about them. It was pitch dark, but all around them glowed millions of tiny lights, flittering here and there.
"Just fireflies," explained McCarty. "But watch. See that thin white mist rising from the ground?" As they watched, the white vapor rose higher, grew denser, and shrouded the land with a ghost-like shroud. The fireflies disappeared, the frogs ceased croaking, the owls' hooting died away, and all was still.
"Night has drawn its sheet over them, and they have gone to sleep," said McCarty whimsically.
"Hark!" exclaimed Walter. "What's that?"
"Hanged if I know," said McCarty, puzzled. "It's coming closer all the time, whatever it is."