upon this island,
and we were not wanted. The willows were against us.

Strange thoughts like these, bizarre fancies, borne I know not whence,
found lodgment in my mind as I stood listening. What, I thought, if, after
all, these crouching willows proved to be alive; if suddenly they should
rise up, like a swarm of living creatures, marshaled by the gods whose
territory we had invaded, sweep towards us off the vast swamps, booming
overhead in the night--and then settle down! As I looked it was so easy to
imagine they actually moved, crept nearer, retreated a little, huddled
together in masses, hostile, waiting for the great wind that should finally
start them a-running. I could have sworn their aspect changed a little, and
their ranks deepened and pressed more closely together.

The melancholy shrill cry of a night-bird sounded overhead, and suddenly I
nearly lost my balance as the piece of bank I stood upon fell with a great
splash into the river, undermined by the flood. I stepped back just in
time, and went on hunting for firewood again, half laughing at the odd
fancies that crowded so thickly into my mind and cast their spell upon me.
I recalled the Swede's remark about moving on next day, and I was just
thinking that I fully agreed with him, when I turned with a start and saw
the subject of my thoughts standing immediately in front of me. He was
quite close. The roar of the elements had covered his approach.

II

"You've been gone so long," he shouted above the wind, "I thought something
must have happened to you."

But there was that in his tone, and a certain look in his face as well,
that conveyed to me more than his usual words, and in a flash I understood
the real reason for his coming. It was because the spell of the place had
entered his soul too, and he did not like being alone.

"River still rising," he cried, pointing to the flood in the moonlight,
"and the wind's simply awful."

He always said the same things, but it was the cry for companionship that
gave the real importance to his words.

"Lucky," I cried back, "our tent's in the hollow. I think it'll hold all
right." I added something about the difficulty of finding wood, in order to
explain my absence, but the wind caught my words and flung them across the
river, so that he did not hear, but just looked at me through the branches,
nodding his head.

"Lucky if we get away without disaster!" he shouted, or words to that
effect; and I r