NAI TIOGA! How my proper senses resisted the swoon that threatened them I do not know; but when the lynx, too, lifted a menacing and flattened head on human shoulders; and when the wolverine also stood out in human-like shadow against the foggy water, I knew that these ghostly things that stirred my hair were no hobgoblins at all, but living men.

And the clogged current of my blood flowed free again, and the sweat on my skin cooled.
The furry ears of the wolf-man, pricked up against the vaguely lustrous background of the river, fascinated me.

For all the world those pointed ears seemed to be listening.

But I knew they were dead and dried; that a man's eyes were gazing through the sightless sockets of the beast.
From somewhere in the darkness the Mohican came gliding on his belly over the velvet carpet of the moss.
"Andastes," he whispered scornfully; "they wear the heads of the beasts whose courage they lack.

Fling a stone among them and they will scatter." As I felt around me in the darkness for a fragment of loose rock, the Mohican arrested my arm.
"Wait, Loskiel.