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I cup my hands to my mouth, then press my fingers to my nose and gave three short descending hoots, one upon the other. The untrained ear might mistake those sounds for a dove but we knew otherwise. Compare to a real bird, the calls were a fraction short and came too express, one upon the other. This was one of the signal we used on the hospital estates to attract attention in secret, though some slave were disincline to whilst or hoot after dark for fear of rousing spirits. Emile himself had taught me the calls when I was but a sprout.