"You can! and you ask me to come!" cried Photogen.

"Yes," answered Nycteris. "And more than that, I see them long before
they can see me, so that I am able to take care of you."

"But how?" persisted Photogen. "You can't shoot with bow and arrow, or
stab with a hunting-knife."

"No, but I can keep out of the way of them all. Why, just when I found
you, I was having a game with two or three of them at once. I see, and
scent them too, long before they are near me--long before they can see
or scent me."

"You don't see or scent any now, do you?" said Photogen, uneasily,
rising on his elbow."

"No--none at present. I will look," replied Nycteris, and sprang to
her feet.

"Oh, oh! do not leave me--not for a moment," cried Photogen, straining
his eyes to keep her face in sight through the darkness.

"Be quiet, or they will hear you," she returned. "The wind is from the
south, and they cannot scent us. I have found out all about that. Ever
since the dear dark came, I have been amusing myself with them,
getting every now and then just into the edge of the wind, and letting
one have a sniff of me."

"Oh, horrible!" cried Photogen. "I hope you will not insist on doing
so any more. What was the consequence?"