Merrill gasped to Ralph
Addington.

"But what are they?" asked Honey Smith in a voice that had a falsetto
note of wonder. "They laugh like a woman--take it from me."

"Eagles--buzzards--vultures--condors--rocs--phoenixes," Pete Murphy
recited his list in an or of imaginative conjecture.

"They're some lost species--something left over from a prehistoric era,"
Frank Merrill explained, shaking with excitement. "No vulture or eagle
or condor could be as big as that at this distance. At least I think
so." He paused here, as one studying the problem in the scientific
spirit. "Often in the Rockies I've confused a nearby chicken-hawk,
at first, with a far eagle. But the human eye has its own system of
triangulation. Those are not little birds nearby, but big birds far off.
See how heavily they soar. Do you realize what's happened? We've made
a discovery that will shake the whole scientific world. There, there,
they're going!"

"My God, look at them beat it!" said Honey; and there was awe in his
voice.

"Why, they're monster size," Frank Merrill went on, and his voice had
grown almost hysterical. "They could carry one of us off. We're not
safe. We must take measures at once to protect ourselves. Why, at
night--We must make traps. If we can capture one, or, better, a pair,
we're famous. We're a part of history now."

They watched the strange birds disappear over the water. For more than
an hour, the men sat still, waiting for them to return. They did not
come back, however. The men hung about camp all day long, talking of
nothing else. Night came at last, but sleep was not in them. The dark
seemed to give a fresh impulse to conversation. Conjecture battled with
theory and fact jousted with fancy. But one conclusion was as futile as
another.

Frank Merrill tried to make them devise some system of defense or
concealment, but the others laughed at him. Talk as he would, he could
not seem to convince them of their danger. Indeed, their state of
mind was entirely different from his. Mentally he seemed to boil
with interest and curiosity, but it was the sane, calm, open-minded
excitement of the scientist. The others were alert and preoccupied in
turn, but there was an element of reserve in their attitude. Their eyes
kept going off into space, fixing there until their look became one
brooding question. They avoided conversation. They avoided each other's
gaze.

Gradually they drew off from the fire, settled themselves to re