Tied to the tent was a large white dog,
which was not barking, but which was howling as if in agony of fear.
Before Domini and Androvsky drew near to this tent the howling of the
dog reached them and startled them. There was in it a note that seemed
humanly expressive, as if it were a person trying to scream out words
but unable to from horror. Both of them instinctively pulled up their
horses, listened, then rode forward. When they reached the tent they saw
the dark thing lying by the fire.
"What is it?" Domini whispered.
"An Arab asleep, I suppose," Androvsky answered, staring at the
motionless object.
"But the dog----" She looked at the white shape leaping frantically
against the tent. "Are you sure?"
"It must be. Look, it is wrapped in rags and the head is covered."
"I don't know."
She stared at it. The howling of the dog grew louder, as if it were
straining every nerve to tell them something dreadful.
"Do you mind getting off and seeing what it is? I'll hold the horse."
He swung himself out of the saddle. She caught his rein and watched him
go forward to the thing that lay by the fire, bend down over it, touch
it, recoil from it, then--as if with a determined effort--kneel down
beside it on the ground and take the rags that covered it in his hands.
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