A breathless hush crept over the woods. There was no sound, save the slight stirring of leaves in the sultry air, and the half-fearful twittering of birds. Nature seemed to be waiting, with her finger on her lips.
    Then the storm broke. Darkness rolled over everything with terrifying suddenness. The tall trees forged against the inky sky. The thunder roared dully, and jagged flashes of light tore across the scene. Somewhere near there was a sharp crash, followed by a crackling sound and the odor of sulphur.
    “The splinter cat is sure on a rampage tonight,” remarked the guide, squinting out of the window.
    The little group of hunters, huddled together in the cabin, were silent. “I’ve only seen a splinter cat once,” the guide continued, as though to himself. “He just comes out during an electrical storm. He’s got a body something like a cat, and he’s nearly as big as an elephant. His light colored hide has wide black stripes cross’ng his back from his head to the tip of his tail. Kind of a pretty-looking animal. The funny thing about him is his large, round stone head, with just one eye in front. He swings his head from side to side and strikes a tree, knocking it into splinters, which is what he feeds on.”
    “Whee! There he goes again. Every time he strikes a tree it makes a flash like lightning and a noise like thunder. If you watch here, maybe you can catch a glimpse of him.”
    Somehow no one cared to go to the window to see the splinter cat.