the shadow that lay upon the ground there and moved slowly nearer and nearer. Then, presently, the moving shadow merged with that of the lodge and the faint sounds ceased.
David came slowly awake, floating to consciousness across the margin of sleep as a swimmer floats to shore. Something had summoned him, but he knew not what. Above the stars still twinkled in a sky that was like a close-hanging curtain of warm purple-black velvet. The slender moon had halved the distance to the dark fringe of forest and crags that marked the edge of the mountain. But the uncanny beat of the drums and thud of feet and howling of voices still went on. David blinked and yawned, vaguely disturbed, and then listened acutely. From the half-darkness came a sibilant voice:
“David!”
With a quick leap of his pulse the boy answered:
“I am here! Who speaks my name?”
“Monapikot.”
“Monapikot!” There was no disguising the gladness he felt.
“Aye, Noawama. Speak softly. Are you outside?”
