e lake on
its summit--a little lake in which the reflected moon stared straight up
into his face. Nor could he quite make out what the sounds were which
rose to his ears through the muffling of the cloud--sounds of tumultuous
rushing, hissing, and tumbling. They were continuous, these sounds, and
once or twice he thought he heard with them a deep, thunderous roar that
almost made his heart stop beating as he listened.

Was he, perhaps, over a range of high mountains, and was this the sound
of the tumbling torrents?

Then, suddenly, it came to him with a shock that the ordinary sounds of
the earth had wholly ceased.

Jimbo felt his head beginning to whirl. He grew weaker every minute;
less able to offer resistance to the remorseless forces that were
sucking him down. Now the mist had closed over his head, and he could no
longer see the moonlight. He turned again, shaking with terror, and
drove forward headlong through the clinging vapour. A sensation of
choking rose in his throat; he was tired out, ready to drop with
exhaustion. The wings of the following creature were now so close that
he thought every minute he would be seized from behind and plunged into
the abyss to his death.

It was just then that he made the awful discovery that the world below
him was not stationary: the _green hills were moving_. They were
sweeping past with a rushing, thundering sound in regular procession;
and their huge sides were streaked with white. The reflection of the
moon leaped up into his face as each hill rolled hissing and gurgling
by, and he knew at last with a shock of unutterable horror that it was
THE SEA!

He was flying over the sea, and the waters were drawing him down. The
immense, green waves that rolled along through the sea fog, carrying the
moon's face on their crests, foaming and gurgling as they went, were
already leaping up to seize him by the feet and drag him into their
depths.

He dropped several feet deeper into the mist, and towards the sea,
terror-stricken and blinded. Then, turning frantically, not knowing what
else to do, he struck out, with his last strength, for the upper surface
and the moonlight. But as he did so, turning his face towards the sky he
saw a dark form hovering just above him, covering his retreat with huge
outstretched wings. It was too late; he was hemmed in on all sides.

At that moment a huge, rolling wave, bigger than all the rest, swept
past and wet him to the knees. His heart fa