It was not often that the blood of Ishmael moved at the rate with
which the fluid circulates in the veins of ordinary men; but now he
felt it ready to gush from every pore in his body. The animal was
aroused, in his most latent energies. Ever as he advanced he heard
those shrieks, which sometimes seemed ringing among the clouds, and
sometimes passed so nigh, as to appear to brush the earth. At length
there came a cry, in which there could be no delusion, or to which the
imagination could lend no horror. It appeared to fill each cranny of
the air, as the visible horizon is often charged to fulness by one
dazzling flash of the electric fluid. The name of God was distinctly
audible, but it was awfully and blasphemously blended with sounds that
may not be repeated. The squatter stopped, and for a moment he covered
his ears with his hands. When he withdrew the latter, a low and husky
voice at his elbow asked in smothered tones--
"Ishmael, my man, heard ye nothing?"
"Hist," returned the husband, laying a powerful arm on Esther, without
manifesting the smallest surprise at the unlooked-for presence of his
wife.
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