“Have you heard the sliding rocks?”
“Indeed I have! All through that strange roar of wind—and later.”
“You and Virey better get up and take your blankets out a ways, where you will not be in danger. I think there’s a burro or a panther up on the slope. You know how loose the stones are—how at the slightest touch they come sliding and rolling. I’ll go up and scare the beast away.”
“Wansfell, you’re wrong,” came the reply, with that old mockery which always hurt Adam. “You should not insult a burro—not to speak of a panther.”
“What?” queried Adam, blankly.
“It is another kind of an animal.”
But for that subtle mockery of voice Adam would have been persuaded the woman was out of her head, or at least answering him in her sleep.
“Mrs. Virey, please——”
“Wansfell, it’s a sneaking coyote,” she called, piercingly, and then she actually uttered a low laugh.
Adam was absolutely dumfounded. “Coyote!” he ejaculated.