By that time it was so dark that we could hardly see the hands on the
watch; and although the day had been warm, I noticed a distinct change
in the temperature--a chill. Somewhere in the woods an owl began to hoot
dismally, as owls do at night; and from a ledge a little distance from
the one on which we stood a whippoorwill began to chant.
Night was evidently descending on the earth--at four o'clock of an
August afternoon! We stared round and then looked at each other,
bewildered.
"Addison, what do you make of this!" I cried.
Thoughts of that rainbow in the morning had flashed through my mind; and
with it came a cold touch of superstitious fear, such as I had never
felt in my life before. In that moment I realized what the fears of the
ignorant must have been through all the past ages of the world. It is a
fear that takes away your reason. I could have cried out, or run, or
done any other foolish thing.
Without saying a word, Addison put the tourmaline crystal into his
pocket and picked up the drill and the little bundle of silver-ore
specimens, which to carry the more easily he had tied up in his
handkerchief.
"Come on," he said in a queer, low tone.
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