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THE ISLE OF SEVEN MOONS
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stopped, and in the stillness they thought they could hear the slap, slap, as the tall man dealt.
"Ben—look at that!"
In the northwest the golden slice of moon was brilliant—straining her eyes, she could see only one—but above the mountain to the south hung something dark.
It was a little curl of smoke, like a black ostrich plume.
"I never saw that before," said Ben.
