ow haze too thick. She could make out only a
wide, dark line, wavering down from the woods to the water--a strange,
moving thing without beginning or end--which seemed to be going faster
than the river. The strangeness of the night alarmed her and as she
gazed at it, fascinated, she saw David running toward the house and
waving his arms to call her attention.

"Look! Look up the river!" he shouted as soon as he had come within
hearing. "I was afraid you wouldn't see it. It's an army of squirrels
marching steadily, just like soldiers, millions and millions of them! It
has been like that for hours. I have been watching it since daylight.
The squirrels are trying to cross the river, and thousands and thousands
are already drowned. The water is brown with their bodies."

"The poor little things! What in the world can it mean, David? And look
at the birds! They don't come at all when I call them. What is the
matter with them? I don't see anything to disturb them, yet see how they
look! And hear the waterfowl screaming! And the trees, too. Why do the
leaves droop like that? How can it be so hot in December? It was never
like this before. There isn't a breath of air."

"I have noticed how strange everything seems. The forest is stiller than
I ever saw it, but the wild things that live in it are strangely
restless. I have been watching them all the morning, and I heard them in
the night."

"But what does it mean, dear? Surely some dreadful thing must be going
to happen! I wish Paul would come. Have you seen him? He is always
riding, and the woods are dangerous in a storm, and it can't be anything
else. Why don't you answer? I asked if you had seen him."

The boy turned from gazing at the strange, dark line which was still
wavering ceaselessly from the woods to the water.

"Yes, I saw him and Father Orin going home an hour or so ago. They had
been out all night." He said this absently, with his eyes turning back
to the wonderful spectacle.

"My Paul is wanted in many places at once," she said, forgetting her
uneasiness in a woman's pride in the power of the man she loves. "But I
hope he found time to visit the sick man on uncle Philip's boat,"
mindful even then of a woman's wish to draw together the men she loves.
"Can you see any clouds, David? I can't--and yet this strange yellow
vapor that thickens the air is certainly growing heavier every moment.
What can it be? It isn't at all like a fog. I am frightened. Come
indo