e and
power of penetration. Sleep was quite out of the question, with so much
to distract our attention. In fine, our misery became so perfect that
we both broke out into loud and sarcastic laughter over the absurdity of
our situation. We had subjected ourselves to all this forlornness simply
for pleasure. Whether Old Phelps was still in existence, we couldn't
tell: we could get no response from him. With daylight, if he continued
ill and could not move, our situation would be little improved. Our
supplies were gone, we lay in a pond, a deluge of water was pouring down
on us. This was summer recreation. The whole thing was so excessively
absurd that we laughed again, louder than ever. We had plenty of this
sort of amusement. Suddenly through the night we heard a sort of reply
that started us bolt upright. This was a prolonged squawk. It was like
the voice of no beast or bird with which we were familiar. At first it
was distant; but it rapidly approached, tearing through the night and
apparently through the tree-tops, like the harsh cry of a web-footed
bird with a snarl in it; in fact, as I said, a squawk. It came close
to us, and then turned, and as rapidly as it came fled away through the
forest, and we lost the unearthly noise far up the mountain-slope.

"What was that, Phelps?" we cried out. But no response came; and we
wondered if his spirit had been rent away, or if some evil genius had
sought it, and then, baffled by his serene and philosophic spirit, had
shot off into the void in rage and disappointment.

The night had no other adventure. The moon at length coming up behind
the clouds lent a spectral aspect to the forest, and deceived us for a
time into the notion that day was at hand; but the rain never ceased,
and we lay wishful and waiting, with no item of solid misery wanting
that we could conceive.

Day was slow a-coming, and didn't amount to much when it came, so
heavy were the clouds; but the rain slackened. We crawled out of our
water-cure "pack," and sought the guide. To our infinite relief he
announced himself not only alive, but in a going condition. I looked at
my watch. It had stopped at five o'clock. I poured the water out of it,
and shook it; but, not being constructed on the hydraulic principle, it
refused to go. Some hours later we encountered a huntsman, from whom I
procured some gun-grease; with this I filled the watch, and heated it in
by the fire. This is a most effectual way of treating a