There came no answer from the gloom. No dog rushed around an invisible cabin to challenge them.
“Let’s take a chance, Andy,” said the doctor. “If a pack of hounds leaps out at us, we can retreat as gracefully as possible. We’ve got to get closer to make ourselves heard.”
They crawled between the bars and struck out along a beaten path. Still no outraged canine came catapulting toward them. Still the house remained invisible. Only the smeared lights stared at them through the fog.
Dr. Shonto came to a halt, and Andy stopped beside him.
“In the cabin there!” called Shonto. “Cabin ahoy!”
Several silent moments followed, and then, between the window lights that had lured them there, a new streak of muddy brilliancy grew to a rectangle, and a woman’s figure stood framed by a door.
“Hello!” shouted the doctor. “We’re lost in the woods and hunting shelter for the night. Our camp is far from here, and we can’t find it. Can you help us out? There are two of us—two men! We’ll gladly pay you for your inconvenience.”
They saw the figure of the woman turn. She was speaking with somebody within the cabin, and her profile was toward them. It vanished as she once more turned her face their way.
“Come on in!” came her invitation. “She says she’ll do the best she can for you.”
“She,” muttered the doctor. “I once knew a man that never called his wife anything but ‘she.’ Come on—I smell baking-powder biscuits, or my name’s not Shonto. Here’s the backwoods for you.”