True, there were the usual night-sounds of the country--the whir of night-birds, the buzzing of insects, the barking of distant dogs, the mellow lowing of far-off kine -- but these didn't seem to break the stillness, they only intensified it, and added a grewsome melancholy to it into the bargain.
I presently gave up looking, the night shut down so black, but I kept my ears strained to catch the least suspicious sound, for I judged I had only to wait, and I shouldn't be disappointed.
However, I had to wait a long time.

At last I caught what you may call in distinct glimpses of sound dulled metallic sound.
I pricked up my ears, then, and held my breath, for this was the sort of thing I had been waiting for.

This sound thickened, and approached--from toward the north.

Presently, I heard it at my own level--the ridge-top of the opposite embankment, a hundred feet or more away.

Then I seemed to see a row of black dots appear along that ridge--human heads?
I couldn't tell; it mightn't be anything at all; you can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.