in the end I turned and walked back to the spot I had just quitted and
sat down once more. I even tried to hum a tune, just to prove to myself
that I had completely recovered from the panic caught from the miserable
Indian; but it is never possible in such cases to get back one's
serenity immediately, and a vague suspicion continued to trouble me for
a time. After sitting there for half an hour or so, listening to distant
bird-sounds, I began to recover my old confidence, and even to feel
inclined to penetrate further into the wood. All at once, making me
almost jump, so sudden it was, so much nearer and louder than I had
ever heard it before, the mysterious melody began. Unmistakably it was
uttered by the same being heard on former occasions; but today it was
different in character. The utterance was far more rapid, with fewer
silent intervals, and it had none of the usual tenderness in it, nor
ever once sunk to that low, whisper-like talking which had seemed to me
as if the spirit of the wind had breathed its low sighs in syllables
and speech. Now it was not only loud, rapid, and continuous, but, while
still musical, there was an incisiveness in it, a sharp ring as of
resentment, which made it strike painfully on the sense.

The impression of an intelligent unhuman being addressing me in anger
took so firm a hold on my mind that the old fear returned, and, rising,
I began to walk rapidly away, intending to escape from the wood. The
voice continued violently rating me, as it seemed to my mind, moving
with me, which caused me to accelerate my steps; and very soon I would
have broken into a run, when its character began to change again. There
were pauses now, intervals of silence, long or short, and after each one
the voice came to my ear with a more subdued and dulcet sound--more of
that melting, flute-like quality it had possessed at other times; and
this softness of tone, coupled with the talking-like form of utterance,
gave me the idea of a being no longer incensed, addressing me now in a
peaceable spirit, reasoning away my unworthy tremors, and imploring me
to remain with it in the wood. Strange as this voice without a body was,
and always productive of a slightly uncomfortable feeling on account of
its mystery, it seemed impossible to doubt that it came to me now in
a spirit of pure friendliness; and when I had recovered my composure I
found a new delight in listening to it--all the greater because of the
fear so