cycle-spokes. I shouted, but the crashing drowned my voice. Then all
at once the solid earth began to shake, and with the rush and roar of
a tornado a gigantic living thing burst out of the forest before our
eyes--a vast shadowy bulk that rocked and rolled along, mowing down
trees in its course.

Two great crescents of ivory curved from its head; its back swept
through the tossing tree-tops. Once it bellowed like a gun fired from
a high bastion.

The apparition passed with the noise of thunder rolling on towards the
ends of the earth. Crack! crash! went the trees, the tempest swept
away in a rolling volley of reports, distant, more distant, until,
long after the tumult had deadened, then ceased, the stunned forest
echoed with the fall of mangled branches slowly dropping.

That evening an agitated young couple sat close together in the
deserted camp, calling timidly at intervals for Professor Smawl and
William Spike. I say timidly, because it is correct; we did not care
to have a mammoth respond to our calls. The lurking echoes across the
lake answered our cries; the full moon came up over the forest to look
at us. We were not much to look at. Dorothy was moistening my shoulder
with unfeigned tears, and I, afraid to light the fire, sat hunched up
under the common blanket, wildly examining the darkness around us.

Chilled to the spinal marrow, I watched the gray lights whiten in the
east. A single bird awoke in the wilderness. I saw the nearer trees
looming in the mist, and the silver fog rolling on the lake.

All night long the darkness had vibrated with the strange monotone
which I had heard the first night, camping at the gate of the unknown
land. My brain seemed to echo that subtle harmony which rings in the
auricular labyrinth after sound has ceased.

There are ghosts of sound which return to haunt long after sound is
dead. It was these voiceless spectres of a voice long dead that
stirred the transparent silence, intoning toneless tones.

I think I make myself clear.

It was an uncanny night; morning whitened the east; gray daylight
stole into the woods, blotting the shadows to paler tints. It was
nearly mid-day before the sun became visible through the fine-spun web
of mist--a pale spot of gilt in the zenith.

By this pallid light I labored to strike the two empty tents, gather
up our equipments and pack them on our five mules. Dorothy aided me
bravely, whimpering when I spoke of Professor Smawl and Willia