This took dim shape, presently-it was budding homesickness.
Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads.
But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak his thought.
For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of.
But now this mysterious sound became more pronounced, and forced a recognition.
The boys started, glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude.
There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen boom came floating down out of the distance.
"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.
"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper.
"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder-"