es were
within reach and aggressive. Never, before or since, have I been so
attacked by indescribable suggestions of a "beyond region," of another
scheme of life, another evolution not parallel to the human. And in the
end our minds would succumb under the weight of the awful spell, and we
should be drawn across the frontier into _their_ world.

Small things testified to this amazing influence of the place, and now
in the silence round the fire they allowed themselves to be noted by the
mind. The very atmosphere had proved itself a magnifying medium to
distort every indication: the otter rolling in the current, the hurrying
boatman making signs, the shifting willows, one and all had been robbed
of its natural character, and revealed in something of its other
aspect--as it existed across the border in that other region. And this
changed aspect I felt was new not merely to me, but to the race. The
whole experience whose verge we touched was unknown to humanity at all.
It was a new order of experience, and in the true sense of the word
_unearthly_.

"It's the deliberate, calculating purpose that; reduces one's courage to
zero," the Swede said suddenly, as if he had been actually following my
thoughts. "Otherwise imagination might count for much. But the paddle,
the canoe, the lessening food----"

"Haven't I explained all that once?" I interrupted viciously.

"You have," he answered dryly; "you have indeed."

He made other remarks too, as usual, about what he called the "plain
determination to provide a victim"; but, having now arranged my thoughts
better, I recognized that this was simply the cry of his frightened soul
against the knowledge that he was being attacked in a vital part, and
that he would be somehow taken or destroyed. The situation called for a
courage and calmness of reasoning that neither of us could compass, and
I have never before been so clearly conscious of two persons in me--the
one that explained everything, and the other that laughed at such
foolish explanations, yet was horribly afraid.

Meanwhile, in the pitchy night the fire died down and the woodpile grew
small. Neither of us moved to replenish the stock, and the darkness
consequently came up very close to our faces. A few feet beyond the
circle of firelight it was inky black. Occasionally a stray puff of wind
set the billows shivering about us, but apart from this not very welcome
sound a deep and depressing silence reigned, broken only by