It was almost as clear as day with the bright tropical moonlight, silvery in the open, pale green in the shadow.

The people were still squatting in great rings round the hut, just outside the taboo line, and beating gongs, and sticks and human bones, to keep time to the lilt of their lugubrious litany.
The air felt unusually heavy and oppressive.

Felix raised his eyes to the sky, and saw whisps of light cloud drifting in rapid flight over the scudding moon.

Below, an ominous fog bank gathered steadily westward.
Then one clap of thunder rent the sky.

After it came a deadly silence.
The moon was veiled.