the coming of the twilight
the thicket was still.

So the dark crept upon Eudena, and the moon grew bright, and the shadows
of things that had fled up the hillside and vanished with the evening
came back to them short and black. And the dark shapes in the thicket of
reeds and alders where the lion lay, gathered, and a faint stir began
there. But nothing came out therefrom all through the gathering of the
darkness.

She looked at the squatting-place and saw the fires glowing smoky-red,
and the men and women going to and fro. The other way, over the river, a
white mist was rising. Then far away came the whimpering of young foxes
and the yell of a hyaena.

There were long gaps of aching waiting. After a long time some animal
splashed in the water, and seemed to cross the river at the ford beyond
the lair, but what animal it was she could not see. From the distant
drinking-pools she could hear the sound of splashing, and the noise of
elephants--so still was the night.

The earth was now a colourless arrangement of white reflections and
impenetrable shadows, under the blue sky. The silvery moon was already
spotted with the filigree crests of the chestnut woods, and over the
shadowy eastward hills the stars were multiplying. The knoll fires were
bright red now, and black figures stood waiting against them. They were
waiting for a scream.... Surely it would be soon.

The night suddenly seemed full of movement. She held her breath. Things
were passing--one, two, three--subtly sneaking shadows.... Jackals.

Then a long waiting again.

Then, asserting itself as real at once over all the sounds her mind had
imagined, came a stir in the thicket, then a vigorous movement. There
was a snap. The reeds crashed heavily, once, twice, thrice, and then
everything was still save a measured swishing. She heard a low tremulous
growl, and then everything was still again. The stillness
lengthened--would it never end? She held her breath; she bit her lips to
stop screaming. Then something scuttled through the undergrowth. Her
scream was involuntary. She did not hear the answering yell from the
mound.

Immediately the thicket woke up to vigorous movement again. She saw the
grass stems waving in the light of the setting moon, the alders swaying.
She struggled violently--her last struggle. But nothing came towards
her. A dozen monsters seemed rushing about in that little place for a
couple of minutes, and then again came silence. The moon