The swart leader at last took note of the skies and their sinister aspect. Robert saw him walking back and forth and looking up. More than half of his men were stretched full length, either asleep or in a stupor, but some of the others stood, and glanced at the skies. Robert thought he saw apprehension in their eyes, or at least his imagination put it there. A wild and fantastic impulse seized him. These men were children of the sea, superstitious, firm believers in omens, and witchcraft, ready to see the ghosts of the slain, all the more so because they were stained with every crime, then committed so freely under the black flag. He had many advantages, too. He was a master of woodcraft, only their wilderness was that of the waters. He gave forth the long, melancholy hoot of the owl, and he did it so well that he was surprised at his own skill. The note, full of desolation and menace, seemed to come back in many echoes. He saw the swart leader and the men with him start and look fearfully toward the forest that curved so near. Then he saw them talking together and gazing at the point from which the sound had come. Perhaps they were trying to persuade themselves the note was only fancy. Robert laughed softly to himself. He was pleased, immensely pleased with his experiment. His fantastic mood grew. He was a spirit of the woods himself; one of those old fauns of the Greeks, and he was really there to punish the evil invaders of his island. His body seemed to grow light with his spirit and he slid away among the trees with astonishing ease, as sure of foot and as noiseless as Tayoga himself. Then the owl gave forth his long, lonely cry with increased volume and fervor. It was a note filled with complaint and mourning, and it told of the desolation that overspread a desolate world. Robert knew now that the leader and his men were disturbed. He could tell it by the anxious way in which they watched the woods, and, gliding farther around the circle, he sent forth the cry a third time. He was quite sure that he had made a further increase in its desolation and menace, and he saw the swart leader and his men draw together as if they were afraid. The owl was not the only trick in Robert's trade. His ambition took a wide sweep and fancy was fertile. He had aroused in these men the fear of the supernatural, a dread that the ghosts of those whom they had murdered had come back to haunt or punish them. He had been an apt pupil of Tayoga before the slaver came to Albany, and now he meant to show the ruffians that the owl was not the only spirit of fate hovering over them. The deep growl of a bear came from the thicket, not the growl of an ordinary black bear, comedian of the forest, but the angry rumble of some great ursine beast of which the black bear was only a dwarf cousin. Then he moved swiftly to another point and repeated it.