The Totems of Abydos

CHAPTER 9





“Did you see it, over there!” said Rodriguez, excitedly.

Brenner peered intently in the direction indicated by Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

It was now the ninth day from Company Station.

“It is the second time,” said Rodriguez. “I am sure I saw it before, and this time.”

“What was it?” asked Brenner, uneasily.

“It is like a shadow,” said Rodriguez. “It is large, very large, out there. I saw it twice, I am sure I saw it twice. You did not see it?”

“No,” said Brenner.

One of the Pons looked up at Rodriguez, its small, wide nostrils flat in its face. It blinked twice.

“You are probably mistaken,” said Brenner.

For the last two days Rodriguez, and Brenner with him, had remained close to the sled. Brenner had kept this post naturally enough in camaraderie with Rodriguez, that they might the more easily converse as they trekked. Too, he found the humility, kindliness, politeness, and gentleness of the Pons, those ideal, simple children of the wild, clad in all the glory of their unassuming primeval innocence, vaguely disquieting. Too, of course, he told himself that his position near the sled had a practical justification, as well, as it enabled him, and Rodriguez, to assist the Pons with the sled, particularly in steep or narrow places. But now, suddenly, Brenner realized that Rodriguez, himself, might have had a different reason for his positioning himself by the sled. Rodriguez had now removed his hand from the brass instrument, that resembling an optical instrument, which lay in the opened pack on the sled.

“Let us move on,” said Rodriguez to the nearest Pon, gesturing ahead.

Again the party moved forward.

“You are certain you saw nothing?” asked Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner. “I am certain.”