two thousand people in
the building, soft-bodied and city-bred. They were unaccustomed
to hardship, and could not endure what more primitive people would
hardly have noticed.

They must be fed, but first they must be taught to feed
themselves. The fishermen would help, but Arthur could only hope
that they would prove equal to the occasion. He did not know what
to expect from them. From the hunters he expected but little. The
Indians were wary hunters, and game would be shy if not scarce.

The great cloud of birds he had seen at sunset was a hopeful
sign. Arthur vaguely remembered stories of great flocks of
wood-pigeons which had been exterminated, as the buffalo was
exterminated. As he considered the remembrance became more clear.

They had flown in huge flocks which nearly darkened the sky. As late
as the forties of the nineteenth century they had been an important
article of food, and had glutted the market at certain seasons of
the year.

Estelle had said the birds he had seen at sunset were
pigeons. Perhaps this was one of the great flocks. If it were really
so, the food problem would be much lessened, provided a way could be
found to secure them. The ammunition in the tower was very limited,
and a shell could not be found for every bird that was needed,
nor even for every three or four. Great traps must be devised, or
bird-lime might possibly be produced. Arthur made a mental note
to ask Estelle if she knew anything of bird-lime.

A vague, humming roar, altering in pitch, came to his ears. He
listened for some time before he identified it as the sound of the
wind playing upon the irregular surfaces of the tower. In the city
the sound was drowned by the multitude of other noises, but here
Arthur could hear it plainly.

He listened a moment, and became surprised at the number of
night noises he could hear. In New York he had closed his ears to
incidental sounds from sheer self-protection. Somewhere he heard
the ripple of a little spring. As the idea of a spring came into
his mind, he remembered Estelle's description of the deep-toned
roar she had heard.

He put his hand on the cold stone of the building. There was still
a vibrant quivering of the rock. It was weaker than before, but
was still noticeable.

He drew back from the rock and looked up into the sky. It seemed
to blaze with stars, far more stars than Arthur had ever seen in
the city, and more than he had dreamed existed.

As he looked, however