LordJohnRoxtonwasrightwhenhethoughtthatsomespeciallytoxicqualitymightlieinthebiteofthehorriblecreatureswhichhadattackedus.Onthemorningafterourfirstadventureupontheplateau,bothSummerleeandIwereingreatpainandfever,whileChallenger'skneewassobruisedthathecouldhardlylimp.Wekepttoourcampallday,therefore,LordJohnbusyinghimself,withsuchhelpaswecouldgivehim,inraisingtheheightandthicknessofthethornywallswhichwereouronlydefense.IrememberthatduringthewholelongdayIwashauntedbythefeelingthatwewerecloselyobserved,thoughbywhomorwhenceIcouldgivenoguess.
SostrongwastheimpressionthatItoldProfessorChallengerofit,whoputitdowntothecerebralexcitementcausedbymyfever.AgainandagainIglancedroundswiftly,withtheconvictionthatIwasabouttoseesomething,butonlytomeetthedarktangleofourhedgeorthesolemnandcavernousgloomofthegreattreeswhicharchedaboveourheads.Andyetthefeelinggreweverstrongerinmyownmindthatsomethingobservantandsomethingmalevolentwasatourveryelbow.IthoughtoftheIndiansuperstitionoftheCurupuri—thedreadful,lurkingspiritofthewoods—andIcouldhaveimaginedthathisterriblepresencehauntedthosewhohadinvadedhismostremoteandsacredretreat.
Thatnight(ourthirdinMapleWhiteLand)wehadanexperiencewhichleftafearfulimpressionuponourminds,andmadeusthankfulthatLordJohnhadworkedsohardinmakingourretreatimpregnable.Wewereallsleepingroundourdyingfirewhenwewerearoused—or,rather,Ishouldsay,shotoutofourslumbers—byasuccessionofthemostfrightfulcriesandscreamstowhichIhaveeverlistened.IknownosoundtowhichIcouldcomparethisamazingtumult,whichseemedtocomefromsomespotwithinafewhundredyardsofourcamp.Itwasasear-splittingasanywhistleofarailway-enginebutwhereasthewhistleisaclear,mechanical,sharp-edgedsound,thiswasfardeeperinvolumeandvibrantwiththeuttermoststrainofagonyandhorror.Weclappedourhandstoourearstoshutoutthatnerve-shakingappeal.Acoldsweatbrokeoutovermybody,andmyheartturnedsickatthemiseryofit.Allthewoesoftorturedlife,allitsstupendousindictmentofhighheaven,itsinnumerablesorrows,seemedtobecenteredandcondensedintothatonedreadful,agonizedcry.Andthen,underthishigh-pitched,ringingsoundtherewasanother,moreintermittent,alow,deep-chestedlaugh,agrowling,throatygurgleofmerrimentwhichformedagrotesqueaccompanimenttotheshriekwithwhichitwasblended.Forthreeorfourminutesonendthefearsomeduetcontinued,whileallthefoliagerustledwiththerisingofstartledbirds.Thenitshutoffassuddenlyasitbegan.Foralongtimewesatinhorrifiedsilence.ThenLordJohnthrewabundleoftwigsuponthefire,andtheirredglarelituptheintentfacesofmycompanionsandflickeredoverthegreatboughsaboveourheads.
"Whatwasit?"Iwhispered.
"Wes