Copyright © 1997 by Richard S. Tuttle
All rights reserved.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Pitor halted his ax in mid-swing as the sound once again drifted to his ears. He cocked his head and listened carefully. There was something ominous in the thunder-like sound rolling through the valley. The sound was quite distant, as was the valley, but there were no clouds in the sky, no hint of an impending storm.
"What is it Dad?" queried his son, Alex.
"Nothing son," answered Pitor, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Probably just a distant storm brewing. Let's get back to work. We've got three more trees to mark and fell before we get to go back to the village."