Eerie silence. No flying things, no tree dwelling reptiles or animals,
no disturbance of any water creature on the unruffled surface of the
lake. Yet the sensation of life, inimical life, lurking in the depths
of the wood, under the water, bore in upon him.
Vye made the light leap to the bole of the dead tree, balanced out on
it over the water, moving slowly as the trunk settled a little under
his weight. He hunkered down, brought out the first bulb tied fast to
a blanket string.
The water of the river had been brown, opaque. But here the liquid was
not so cloudy. He could see snags of dead branches below its surface.
And something else!
Down in those turgid depths he made out a straight ridge running with
a trueness of line which could not be nature's unassisted product.
That ridge joined another in a squared corner. He leaned over,
strained his eyes to follow through the murk the farther extent of
those two ridges. Looked along both pointed protuberances aimed at the
surfaces of the lake, like fangs in an open jaw.
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