he evening before--the great, fat, grey clouds were full of
it--and we thought we were in for another blizzard like last year's.
It had "let up" for a little, as they say about there, but Roger was
afraid to risk going away till it had definitely ended, so they went
for their walk, and I chatted with Miss Jencks by the fire. They had
been gone about an hour when we heard a great scratching and whining
at the door (I thought for a moment it was Kitch) and Rosy bounded in,
snapping his teeth and glaring fearfully. We both jumped up and he
flew at me and caught my sleeve in his teeth--for a moment, I confess,
I felt a little queer, for I had seen him throw Caliban and hold
him--then, as I drew back, he uttered the most heartrending howl I
have ever heard, and spun wildly around, and at that moment I felt
suddenly that something was up and that I was wanted. Miss Jencks felt
it at exactly that moment, too, and ran for my great-coat before I
asked her.

She says that I said,

"Where are they, old fellow? Go seek!" but I don't remember it. I know
that she said in a low voice,

"I shall be of no use--I can't run--but I will have everything ready,"
though she says I must have imagined it.

Rosy flew through the door and I after him--she had the sense to bring
me my heavy arctic overshoes, or I should have slipped in a
minute--and I ran for about fifty yards.

Then something stopped me. Where it came from, _what_ did it, I don't
know and can never know, but I swear I heard a low, distinct voice
close to me (not a cry, mind you, but a quiet, hoarse voice) saying,

"Get a rope. Get a rope."

I checked like a scared horse and nearly fell.

"Get a rope," I heard again, "_get a rope_."

Then, cursing at myself for a crazy fool, I actually turned, with Rosy
showing his teeth at me, and dashed back (all those precious yards!)
and grabbed a pile of rope Caliban had brought out to bind some big
logs for hauling and abandoned under the eaves when we arrived on the
island. Rosy was far ahead now, but he had gone through the crust at
intervals and I tracked him by that.

[Illustration: I LEANED OVER THE BANK AND CRIED THAT I WAS THERE, BUT
SHE NEVER STOPPED--IT WAS TERRIBLE]

Suddenly the wind--it was blowing a steady gale behind me--shifted,
and I heard a succession of terrible cries, great hoarse, high
shrieks, like nothing human and yet unlike any animal. Wordless,
throat-tearing screams they were, and I shouted back, again