He could hear creepy movements in the stillness.

It seemed better to leave those doors alone.
One other door, which faced that of his own room, was open wide, and he could feel the forest through it; there was nothing to be seen, but the stillness moved.

The velvet blackness was deeper by a shade, and the heat, uprising to get even with the sky, bore up a stench with it.

There was no draught, no movement except upward.

Earth was panting-in time, it seemed, to the hellish thunder of the tom-toms.
He went back and lay on the bed again, leaning the rifle against the cot-frame, and trying by sheer will-power to prevent the blood from bursting his veins.