He knew at once.
"Is it him?" he whispered. "D'you hear him?"
"Hush!" commanded two voices, and then he saw that old Joe Cumberland
also was listening.
"No," said the girl suddenly, "it was only the wind."
As if in answer, a far, faint whistling broke upon them. She drew her
hands slowly towards her breast, as if, indeed, she drew the sound in
with them.
"He's coming!" she cried. "Oh, Dad, listen! Don't you hear?"
"I do," answered the rancher, "but what I'm hearin' don't warm my blood
none. Kate, if you're wise you'll get up and go to your room and don't
pay no heed to anything you might be hearin' to-night."
CHAPTER XLII
THE JOURNEY INTO NIGHT
There was no doubting the meaning of Joe Cumberland. It grew upon them
with amazing swiftness, as if the black stallion were racing upon the
house at a swift gallop, and the whistling rose and rang and soared in a
wild outburst. Give the eagle the throat of the lark, and after he has
struck down his prey in the centre of the sky and sent the ragged
feathers and the slain body falling down to earth, what would be the
song of the eagle rising again and dwindling out of sight in the heart
of the sky? What terrible pean would he send whistling down to the dull
earth far below? And such was the music that came before the coming of
Dan Barry. It did not cease, as usual, at a distance, but it came closer
and closer, and it swelled around them.
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