His inner consciousness, the guardian of his sleep, cried for him to arouse himself.

It pounded like a little hand in his brain, and at last he began to move restlessly, and twist in his sleeping-bag.

His eyes shot open suddenly.

The light of day filled his tunnel.

He looked toward the "door" which he had covered with his tent.
The tent was gone.
In its place was framed a huge shaggy head, and Philip found himself staring straight into the eyes of Bram Johnson..