12/27 Again it was the instinct born of countless generations. He knew that in the black pits about them hovered death--and he ran as he had never run before in his life. As Miki followed, the shadows were beginning to float nearer again. The trees grew taller, and soon the day began breaking through so that there were no longer the cavernous hollows of gloom about them. If they had gone on another hundred yards they would have come to the edge of the big plain, the hunting grounds of the owls. |