His feet made no sound on the
pine needles, and the slanting sun rays, striking through among the
straight trunks, made a gray twilight in which objects at a distance
glimmered indistinctly. There was nothing to break the ghostly stillness
which, when there is no breeze, always broods over these sombre primeval
forests.
At last he came to the edge of the little glade where the camp lay, and
shouted as he approached it, but got no answer. The camp fire had gone
out, though the thin blue smoke was still curling upwards. Near it lay
the packs, wrapped and arranged. At first Bauman could see nobody; nor
did he receive an answer to his call. Stepping forward he again shouted,
and as he did so his eye fell on the body of his friend, stretched
beside the trunk of a great fallen spruce. Rushing towards it the
horrified trapper found that the body was still warm, but that the neck
was broken, while there were four great fang marks in the throat.
The footprints of the unknown beast-creature, printed deep in the soft
soil, told the whole story.
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