that her father had left to her.

By that time it was so dark that we could hardly see the hands on the
watch; and although the day had been warm, I noticed a distinct change
in the temperature--a chill. Somewhere in the woods an owl began to hoot
dismally, as owls do at night; and from a ledge a little distance from
the one on which we stood a whippoorwill began to chant.

Night was evidently descending on the earth--at four o'clock of an
August afternoon! We stared round and then looked at each other,
bewildered.

"Addison, what do you make of this!" I cried.

Thoughts of that rainbow in the morning had flashed through my mind; and
with it came a cold touch of superstitious fear, such as I had never
felt in my life before. In that moment I realized what the fears of the
ignorant must have been through all the past ages of the world. It is a
fear that takes away your reason. I could have cried out, or run, or
done any other foolish thing.

Without saying a word, Addison put the tourmaline crystal into his
pocket and picked up the drill and the little bundle of silver-ore
specimens, which to carry the more easily he had tied up in his
handkerchief.

"Come on," he said in a queer, low tone. "Let's go find Theodora and
Nell. I guess we'd better go home--if it's coming on night in the middle
of the afternoon."

He tried to laugh, for Addison had always prided himself on being free
from all superstition. But I saw that he was startled; and he admitted
afterwards that he, too, had remembered about that rainbow in the
morning, and had also thought of the comet that had appeared a few years
before and that many people believed to presage the end of the world.

We started to run back, but it had already grown so dark that we had to
pay special heed to our steps. We could not walk fast. To this day I
remember how strange and solemn the chanting of the whippoorwills and
the hoarse _skook_! of the nighthawks sounded to me. No doubt I was
frightened. It was exactly like evening; the same chill was in the air.

At last we reached the place where we had left the others, but they were
not there. Addison called to Theodora and Ellen several times in low,
suppressed tones; I, too, felt a great disinclination to shout or speak
aloud.

"I guess they've all gone back where we left the wagon," Addison said at
last.

We made our way through the tangled bushes, brush and woods, down to
Otter Brook. In the darkness we went a litt