Page:Weird Tales Volume 8 Number 1 (1926-07).djvu/7

6 happened at the same hour every night?"

"Yes, just about at this time," returned Alcott with a shudder. "I heard it the first night I pitched my tent here. That was two weeks ago. I haven't asked the sentries if they've heard anything, for I don't want them to think I'm crazy already. Besides, I don't believe it can be heard down there, for the only night I've missed it was last Saturday when I was inspecting the returning liberty party. But the thing has got on my nerves so much that I had to tell somebody."

Kent lit a cigarette, the flare of the match throwing his clear-cut features into relief against the darkness of the night.

"I'm glad you picked me," he observed. "There's seldom any excitement here, and if a mystery comes up I want to—what's the matter?"

Alcott had leaped to his feet.

"Listen!" he whispered in an awed voice, staring up into the starlit, tropical sky. "There it is now. Don't you hear it, Kent? That awful, wailing sound?"

The cigarette dropped from Kent's fingers as there came to his ears a faint shriek, indescribably weird and mournful, from some point above him in the heavens. In the instant it changed to a horrible, discordant frenzy that sent a nameless dread surging through him, though in volume the sound had not increased. Then the cry was gone, to be succeeded by an odd, rushing noise. In a moment this also died out and the night was as silent as before.

Kent stood paralyzed for a second, the memory of that sinister cry still numbing his faculties. Then he shook himself impatiently and began a swift search of the purple dome above. But in vain, for there was not an object in sight large enough to blot out even the tiniest star. He turned in silent wonder to his companion, whoso eyes seemed about to bulge from his head.

"You heard it?" demanded Alcott hoarsely. "Then I'm not going mad. Thank God for that!"

"You're sane enough," said Kent. "But what could it have been? Alcott, you're right. There was nothing human in that sound."

"It's uncanny," agreed Alcott in a fearful tone. "I thought at first it might he some super-airship which we hadn't heard about over here, but it's not likely to be passing every night at the same time."

"No airship ever sounded like that," stated Kent positively. "Besides, we could have seen it easily. No, whatever made that shriek was not connected with man."

"What do you mean?" asked the other tensely. "You don't mean anything supernatural?"

The flyer stared out into the darkness a full minute before replying, his eyes roaming across the hollow which separated them from the cliff.

"Not supernatural," he responded at last, "but unnatural. The superstitious Chamorros would chalk it up to Tatamona, their 'devil of the night'. But we must look for a logical explanation, even though one seems utterly impossible. Something happened up there tonight, that's certain; and I'm going to find out what it was!"

Alcott opened his lips to speak and then broke off abruptly, jabbing his finger over Kent’s shoulder.

"What's that?" he exclaimed breathlessly. "Behind you look!"

Considerably startled, Kent whirled about. A shapeless white object floated slowly to earth a few feet away. He took a hurried step forward and bent over, flooding the ground with light from an electric flash. Then he laughed in sadden relief.

"It's just part of an old newspaper, probably carried up from your