Ringan was whistling softly through his teeth, while I scanned the half moon of rock and matted vines which made our shelter.

There was no sound in the air but the tap of a woodpecker and the trickling of the little runlets from the wet sides.
The mind in a close watch falls under a spell, so that while the senses are alert the thoughts are apt to wander.

As I have said before, I have the sharpest sight, and as I watched a point of rock it seemed to move ever so slightly.

I rubbed my eyes and thought it fancy, and a sudden noise above made me turn my head.

It was only a bird, and as I looked again at the rock it seemed as if a spray of vine had blown athwart it, which was not there before.