Voss - pg. 414

Moonlight was of doubtful benefit when it came, because all night the spirits of the dead were with him. The thin soul of Turner was hanging like a possum, by its tail, from a tree. There was a cracking of sticks and whips by Mr. Angus, who would rise up very close in a huge, white, blunt pillar of flurry light. The boy thought he would not be able to endure it, and was pouring sand upon his head. When daylight came, his eyes were turned up, and the rims of his eyelids staring outward, in a kind of fit. But he soon recovered in the heat of the morning, and continued eastward, talking to himself of what he had seen.