owl. A stick thrust into the slime sank into
unknown depths.

Vaguely alarmed, I gained the firm land again and looked around,
believing there was no road open but the desolate trail we had
traversed. But I was in error; already the leading mule was wading out
into the water, and the others, one by one, followed.

How wide the lake might be we could not tell, because the band of fog
hung across the water like a curtain. Yet out into this flat, shallow
void our mules went steadily, slop! slop! slop! in single file.
Already they were growing indistinct in the fog, so I bade Dorothy
hasten and take off her shoes and stockings.

She was ready before I was, I having to unlace my shooting-boots, and
she stepped out into the water, kilts fluttering, moving her white
feet cautiously. In a moment I was beside her, and we waded forward,
sounding the shallow water with our poles.

When the water had risen to Dorothy's knees I hesitated, alarmed. But
when we attempted to retrace our steps we could not find the shore
again, for the blank mist shrouded everything, and the water deepened
at every step.

I halted and listened for the mules. Far away in the fog I heard a
dull splashing, receding as I listened. After a while all sound died
away, and a slow horror stole over me--a horror that froze the little
net-work of veins in every limb. A step to the right and the water
rose to my knees; a step to the left and the cold, thin circle of the
flood chilled my breast. Suddenly Dorothy screamed, and the next
moment a far cry answered--a far, sweet cry that seemed to come from
the sky, like the rushing harmony of the world's swift winds. Then the
curtain of fog before us lighted up from behind; shadows moved on the
misty screen, outlines of trees and grassy shores, and tiny birds
flying. Thrown on the vapory curtain, in silhouette, a man and a woman
passed under the lovely trees, arms about each other's necks; near
them the shadows of five mules grazed peacefully; a dingue gambolled
close by.

"It is a mirage!" I muttered, but my voice made no sound. Slowly the
light behind the fog died out; the vapor around us turned to rose,
then dissolved, while mile on mile of a limitless sea spread away
till, like a quick line pencilled at a stroke, the horizon cut sky and
sea in half, and before us lay an ocean from which towered a mountain
of snow--or a gigantic berg of milky ice--for it was moving.

"Good Heavens," I shrieked; "it is alive!