At first it may not always be apparent, because the busy
preparations of tent and cooking prevent, but with the first pause--after
supper usually--it comes and announces itself. And the note of this
willow-camp now became unmistakably plain to me; we were interlopers,
trespassers; we were not welcomed. The sense of unfamiliarity grew upon me
as I stood there watching. We touched the frontier of a region where our
presence was resented. For a night's lodging we might perhaps be tolerated;
but for a prolonged and inquisitive stay--No! by all the gods of the trees
and wilderness, no! We were the first human influences 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.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33