"Tell me, please," repeated Margaret. "Are they here?"

The pipe left the man's mouth. The great bushy head nodded reluctant
corroboration.

"Yes," he said.

"You--saw them?"

Again the man's head spoke an affirmative. "It's perhaps as well, after
all, for you to know." One hand indicated the foot of the rise before
them. "They waylaid Mueller there."

"And you--"

"It was all over in a second." Puff, puff. "After all he--Margaret!"

"Don't mind me. I was thinking of baby. The hideous suggestion!"

"Margaret!" He held her tight, so tight he could feel the quiver of her
body against his, the involuntary catch of her breath. "Forgive me,
Margaret."

"You're not to blame. Perhaps--Oh, Sam, Sam, our baby!"

Hotter and hotter beat down the sun. Thicker and thicker above the
scorching earth vibrated the curling heat waves. The very breath of
prairie seemed dormant, stifled. Not the leaf of a sunflower stirred, or
a blade of grass. In the tiny patch of Indian corn each individual plant
drooped, almost like a sensate thing, beneath the rays, each broad leaf
contracted, like a roll of parchment, tight upon the parent stalk. In
sympathy the colour scheme of the whole lightened from the appearance of
the paler green under-surface. Though silently, yet as plainly as had
done Hans Mueller when fighting for life, they lifted the single plea:
"Water! Water! Give us drink!"

Silent now, the storm over, side by side sat the man and the woman; like
children awed by the sudden realisation of their helplessness, their
hands clasped in mute sympathy, mute understanding. Usually at this time
of day with nothing to do they slept; but neither thought of sleep now.
As passed the slow time and the sun sank lower and lower, came the hour
of supper; but likewise hunger passed them by. Something very like
fascination held them there on the doorstep, gazing out, out at
motionless impassive nature, at the seemingly innocent earth that
nevertheless concealed so certain a menace, at the patch of sod corn
again in cycle growing darker as the broad leaves unfolded in
preparation for the dew of evening. Out, out they looked, out, out--.

"Sam!"

"Yes."

"You saw, too?"

An answering pressure of the hand.

"The eyes of him, only the eyes--out there at the edge of the corn!"

"It's the third time, Margaret." Despite the man's effort his breath
tightened. "They're all about: a score at least--I don't know how many.
The tall grass t