Then they moved on again,
surrounded by the same drear landscape, the very depression of it
keeping them silent. Sikes nodded sleepily, his head against a wagon
bow. Once Moore roused up, pointing into the distance with one hand.
"What do yer make o' that out thar?" he asked sharply. "'Tain't a
human, is it?"
Sikes straightened up with a start, and stared blankly in the direction
indicated. Apparently he could perceive nothing clearly, for he
reached back into the wagon-box, and drew forth a battered field-glass,
quickly adjusting it to his eyes. Stella's keener vision made out a
black, indistinct figure moving against the yellow background of a far
away sand-ridge, and she stood up, clinging to Moore's seat, to gain a
better view. Sikes got the object in focus.
"Nothin' doing," he announced. "It's travellin' on four legs--a b'ar,
likely, although I never afore heard of a b'ar being in yere."
They settled down to the same monotony, mile after mile. The way
became rockier with less sand, but with no more evidence of life.
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