The L'Anse sentinel., 1923-01-12

upward toward them, could reach into
their mysterious calm.
His eyes discerned thin f1iament
Of cloud that had swept up from be-
hind the ridges. and the sight recalled
him to his own position with added
force. The moonlight, soft as II was.
had been tremendous relief to him.
At least, 1t would have enabled him
to keep watch, and now he dreaded the
fall Of utter darkness more shan he
had ever dreaded anything In mis- life.
1t was an ancient instinct, coming
straight from the young days Of the
world when nightfa)i brought the hunt
ing creatures to tire mouth Of the cave,
but he had never really experienced 1t
before.
He watched with growing horror the
slow extension Of the clouds. Finally
the xloon swept under them.
The shadow fell around Bruce. For
the first time he knew the age-old ter
ror Of the darkness. He no longer
knew himself as one Of a dominant
breed, master Of all the wild things In
the world. He was simply living
creature in grim and unconquered
world, alone and helpless In the terror
of the darkness.
The moonlight alternately grew and
died as the moon passed in and out
of the heavier cloud patches. Winds
must have been blowing in the high
lanes of the air, but there was no
breath Of them where Bruce lay. The
forests were silent, and the little rus
things and STRINGS that reached him
from time to time only seemed to ac-
centuate the quiet.
He speculated on how many hours
had passed. He wondered II he could
dare to hope that midnight had al
ready gone by and, through some di-
vergence from wilderness customs, the
grizzly had failed to return to his
feast. 1t seemed endless hours since
he had re-entered the empty rooms of
Linda's home. A wave Of hope crept
through the whole hydraulic system Of
his veins. And then, as sudden sound
reached him from the forests at one
side, that bright wave Of hope turned
black, receded and left only despair.
He heard the sound but dimly. In
fact, except for his straining with ev-
cry nerve alert, he might not have
heard 1t at all. Nevertheless, distance
alone had dimmed 1t; 1t had been a
large sound to start with. So far had
II come that only scratch on the
eardrums was left of 1t but there was
no chance to misunderstood 1t. II
cracked out to him through the unfath
omable silence, and all the elements by
which he might recognize 1t were dis
tinct. 1t was the noise of heavy
thlcket being broken down and parted
before an enormous body.
He listened, straining. Then he
heard the sound again. Whoever came
toward him had passed the heavy
brush. by now. The sounds that
reached him were just faint and inter.
mittent whispers-first of twis
cracking beneath heavy foot, then
the rattle of two pebbles knocked to-
gether. Long moments of utter silence
would ensue between, In which he
could hear the steady drum of his
heart In his breast. and the long roll
Of his blood In his veins.
The limbs Of q young fir tree rustled
and whispered as something brushed
against them. Leaves ficked together
and once heavy limb popped like q
distant small-calibered rifle as q great
weight broke II in two. Then. as II
the gods of the wilderness were using
all their ingenuity to torture him, the
silence closed down deeper than evei
| before.
1t lasted so long that he began Il
hope again. Perhaps the sounds hat
been made by deer stealing on 1t.
way to feed In the pastures. Yet hi
knew the step had been too heavy fol
anything but the largest deer, and
their way was to encircle thickei
rather than crash through II. II NIGH
have been the step Of one Of the small
black bears-a harmless and friendly
| wilderness dweller. Yet the impress
sion fingered and strengthened tha
only some great hunter, a beast WHIT
feared neither other beasts nor men
had been steadily coming toward hin
through the forest.
| At that instant the moon slipped
under a particularly heavy fragmen,
of cloud, and deep darkness settled
over him. Even his white face was M
longer discernible In the dusk. He lay
scarcely breathing. trying to fght
down his growing terror.
This silence could mean but one o.
two things. One Of them was that tn,
creature who had made the sounds hat
turned on on one Of the many inter
secting game trails that wind through
the forest. This was his hope. The a
ternative was one Of despair. II wal
simply that the creature had detecte<
his presence and was stalking hlm II
silence through the shadows.
He thought that the light would new
or come. He strained again at tn
ropes. The dark cloud swept on; ant
the moonlight, silver and bright. brok'
over the scene.
The forest stood once more in shar1
silhouette. against the sky. He studiet
with straIning eyer the dark fringe O
| ahadoWs one hundred feet distant