Not that she phrased these thoughts in
definite words, but Joan was very close to nature, and therefore her
instincts gave her a weird little touch of wisdom in such matters.
And when she lay there tangled in her cloak and looked up into the glowing
eyes of Bart and heard his snarling roll around her, and pass in creepy
chills up her back, she nearly died of fear, to be sure, but she lay as
still as still, frozen into a part of the rock. Black Bart was gone, and in
his place was a terrible creature which belonged there among the shadows,
for it could see in the night.
Presently the bright eyes disappeared, and now she saw that Bart lay
stretched across the entrance to the cave, where the long shadow was now
creeping down the slope. Inches by inches she ventured to sit up, and all
it brought from Bart was a quick turn of the head and a warning growl. It
meant as plainly as though he had spoken in so many words: "Stay where you
are and I don't care in the least what you do, but don't try to cross this
entrance if you fear the length of my teeth and the keenness thereof.
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