For a space it was
apparently contemplating the area about it.
Then it raised its claws and began the scraping fiddle which once before
had drawn its prey out of hiding. Oddly enough that dry rasp of sound had
a quieting effect upon Sinbad and Dane felt the drag of the harness
lessen as the cat moved, not toward escape, but to the scene of action,
humping himself at last in the open panel, his round eyes fixed upon the
Hoobat with a fascinated stare.
Scrape-scrape--the monotonous noise bit into the ears of the men, gnawed
at their nerves.
"Ahhh--" Ali kept his voice to a whisper, but his hand jerked to draw
their attention to the right at deck level. Dane saw that flicker along a
log. The stowaway pest was now the same brilliant color as the wood,
indistinguishable until it moved, which probably explained how it had
come on board.
But that was only the first arrival. A second flash of movement and a
third followed. Then the hunted remained stationary, able to resist for a
period the insidious summoning of Queex. The Hoobat maintained an
attitude of indifference, of being so wrapped in its music that nothing
else existed.
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