amounted to nearly two thousand the orchestra was a pretty full one.

These wretches howled as if they had all gone mad. Yet there was
"method in their madness;" for they congregated in a crowd before
beginning, and sat down on their haunches. Then one, which seemed to
be the conductor, raised his snout to the sky and uttered a long, low,
melancholy wail. The others took it up by twos and threes, until the
whole pack had their noses pointing to the stars and their throats
distended to the uttermost, while a prolonged yell filled the air.
Then it sank gradually, one or two (bad performers probably) making
a yelping attempt to get it up again at the wrong time. Again the
conductor raised his nose, and out it came--full swing. There was no
vociferous barking. It was simple wolfish howling increased in fervour
to an electric yell, with slight barks running continuously through it
like an obbligato accompaniment.

When Crusoe first heard the unwonted sound he sprang to his feet,
bristled up like a hyena, showed all his teeth, and bounded out of the
tent blazing with indignation and astonishment. When he found out what
it was he returned quite sleek, and with a look of profound contempt
on his countenance as he resumed his place by his master's side and
went to sleep.



CHAPTER X.


_Perplexities_--_Our hunters plan their escape_--_Unexpected
interruption_--_The tables turned_--_Crusoe mounts guard_--_The