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Updated: June 28, 2025
He was a sinister figure, with his black beard seeming to bristle with passion, his eyes flaming with it; all his muscles tensed and quivering, and his right hand, with clawlike fingers, poised above the butt of his pistol. "Frame-up!" he repeated, laughing hoarsely between his teeth. "Hell's fire! Do you think it takes two men to 'get' you you miserable whelp?
In the awful stench of these frightful charnel isles haggard maniacs screamed and gibbered and fought among the torn remnants of their grisly feasts; while on those which contained but clean-picked bones they battled with one another, the weaker furnishing sustenance for the stronger; or with clawlike hands clutched at the bloated bodies that drifted down with the current.
But his clawlike hands shook a little. "Oh! will they know me?" asked Jane Withersteen, turning to a stalwart man no other than the dark-faced Venters, her rider of other days. "Know you? I'll bet they will," replied Venters. "What do you say, Bess?" The shadow brightened in Bess's somber blue eyes, as if his words had recalled her from a sad and memorable past.
There was a tangled argument. "Well, he ," said the two, indicating their opponent with accusative forefingers. The huge soldier was quite purple with rage. He pointed at the two soldiers with his great hand, extended clawlike. "Well, they " But during this argumentative time the desire to deal blows seemed to pass, although they said much to each other.
But the Bow-legs, their little pig-eyes red with lust for their prey, fought with a sort of frenzy, diving in headlong and clutching at the legs of the Hillmen with their ape-like, sinewy arms, dragging them down and tearing then with crooked, clawlike fingers. Many of the Hillmen, and some women died in this way.
Suddenly the bent form knelt upright, the skeleton arms raised high above the tangle of gray-black hair, the thin, high-pitched voice quavered the words of a weird chant, the clawlike fingers twitched in short, jerky spasms, and the emaciated body swayed and weaved to the wild, barbaric rhythm of the chanted curse. Terrible, blighting, the words were borne to the ears of the girl.
The old crone drew her blanket about her and shuddered slightly as she glanced from her own withered, clawlike hands, upon which dark veins stood out like the cords of a freight bale, to the fresh beauty of the young girl at her side who gazed in awed fascination upon the rush of the pounding logs.
What are they?" wondered Stern, again, utterly baffled for any explanation. "What can they be?" Another, in the group close by, attracted his attention. It was lying on its side, asleep maybe, its back directly toward the engineer. Stern clearly saw the narrow shoulders and the thin, long arms, covered with that white bristling hair. One sprawling, spatulate, clawlike hand lay on the forest moss.
She heard a few incoherent mutterings then, "No no Bobby, yer wouldn't dast blow up the castle. Yer'd maybe kill the princess lady yer know yer couldn't do that!" Again the weak little voice sank into low, meaning less murmurs. The tiny, clawlike fingers plucked at the coverlet.
About him on all sides men were tearing their meat with clawlike hands, digging their fangs into it in wolfish ferocity... A dishpan of rice was circulated. Fred took a few spoonfuls. Within fifteen minutes the meal was over and the dishpan, emptied of its rice, was passed again. Fred saw his companions flinging their spoons into it. He did likewise. The youth arose.
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