Peering into the night she strained her eyes in a vain attempt to discover a light on the lake. There was no light.
She had just snuggled down in her warm corner once more when every muscle of her supple form stiffened in terror. She sprang to her feet. From some distant spot, yet startling in its distinctness, had come one wild, piercing scream.
“Wha—what could that have been?”
Gripping at her heart to still its mad beating, she sank back in her place.
“Boo! How cold!” She drew the blankets about her.
Her mind was in a turmoil. Who had screamed? That it was a person, not some wild creature, she could not doubt. But who?
Should she waken Florence? Her hand was on the big girl’s shoulder. “But why?” she asked herself. “We are two girls. What can we do in the night on a ridge we do not know? Fall into a crevice. No help to anyone.”
Once again she crawled down beneath the blankets. Once more she caught the notes of that mysterious music. It had not stopped. Plainly that person was not associated in any way with the scream.
The wind began whispering in the pines. The sound blended with that strange music. Together they became the accompaniment to a dream. She slept. And still at her feet lay the glorious little world that is Isle Royale.