diagrams that spelled quest for 

 food. 



So portentous did the grey 

 silence seem, as we waited and 

 listened, that I longed for a release 

 from it. My breath came in 

 shortened gasps, and yet when 

 Nimrod raised the horn to his 

 lips and shrieked forth a moosely 

 summons, it seemed a profanation. 

 Another fifteen minutes of silence, 

 every second of which my imagin- 

 ation made a living picture of a huge 

 creature with eyes aflame and smoke 

 curling from his nostrils, coming full 

 charge down the runway at which 

 we waited, and dashing into the 

 shallow water straight for our canoe, 

 an avenging spirit scattering retri- 

 bution upon the hardy mortals who 

 thus dared to tamper with nature. 

 But the grey silence continued. 



Nimrod sent another call of un- 

 earthly resonance echoing to the 

 outer world. It came back to our 

 magic circle mockingly. Slowly the 

 light etched detail into the surround- 

 ings. At the third call, I no longer 

 feared that the snorting avenger 

 would come, but that he would not, 



