noon
He tried to whistle to cheer himself but forebore when the uncanny echoes rocketed in the dismal cathedral of towering trunks . It was rough and cheerless going . There were no trails . Once , toward noon , while he was munching chocolate to appease his empty stomach , he suddenly came upon a sort of runway , a beaten trail . He stepped into this easier path but had taken but a few steps when he was startled by the vicious rush of a swift object that whizzed up through the air and tore through a fold of his loose riding breeches , then swung back before his eyes to vibrate into stillness . It was a bamboo dagger , sharpened to a keen edge and point , hardened by charring in a slow fire . Fastened to a young sapling , it had been bent down over the trail and secured by a trigger his foot had released in passing .