to close the old cellar
hole with some firewood.

The three had little appetite, but even that they restrained since now
they were down to part of a Chicken, and Corney, evidently he supposed
they had been to Ellerton's and got all the food they needed.

Again that night, when the fever left him weak and dozing, Thor was
awakened by a noise in the room, a sound of crunching bones. He looked
around to see dimly outlined against the little window, the form of a
large animal on the table. Thor shouted; he tried to hurl his boot at
the intruder. It leaped lightly to the ground and passed out of the
hole, again wide open.

It was no dream this time, he knew, and the women knew it, too; not
only had they heard the creature, but the Chicken, the last of their
food, was wholly gone.

Poor Thor barely left his couch that day. It needed all the querulous
complaints of the sick women to drive him forth. Down by the spring he
found a few berries and divided them with the others. He made his usual
preparations for the chills and the thirst, but he added this--by the
side of his couch he put an old fish-spear--the only weapon he could
find, now the gun was useless--a pine-root candle and some matches. He
knew the Beast was coming back again--was coming hungry. It would find
no food; what more natural, he thought, than take the living prey lying
there so helpless? And a vision came of the limp brown form of the
little Fawn, borne off in those same cruel jaws.

Once again he barricaded the hole with firewood, and the night passed
as usual, but without any fierce visitor. Their food that day was flour
and water, and to cook it Thor was forced to use some of his barricade.
Loo attempted some feeble joke, guessed she was light enough to fly now
and tried to rise, but she got no farther than the edge of the bunk.
The same preparations were made, and the night wore on, but early in
the morning, Thor was again awakened rudely by the sound of lapping
water by his bed, and there, as before, were the glowing eyeballs, the
great head, the gray form relieved by the dim light from the dawning
window.

Thor put all his strength into what was meant for a bold shout, but it
was merely a feeble screech. He rose slowly and called out: "Loo,
Margat! The Lynx--here's the Lynx again!"

"May God help ye, for we can't," was the answer.

"Sssh-hi!" Thor tried again to drive the Beast away. It leaped on to
the table by the window and stood up growl