208 THE JONATHAN PAPERS 



we reached the creek the gold had vanished, 

 except for a narrow line in the western sky. 

 The world lay in clear, brown twilight, and the 

 wind swept over it. 



Jonathan got more hay, and this time I saw 

 the haystack from which he plucked it. I 

 threw myself on it, collar up, cap down, lying 

 as low as possible. 



&quot;Bad night for ducks, of course,&quot; growled 

 Jonathan. &quot;If only the thaw had held twelve 

 hours more! However &quot; 



He swung off to some chosen spot of his 

 own. 



I lay there and the wind surged over me. 

 There was nothing to stop it, nothing to make 

 it noisy. It sang a little around the flap of my 

 coat, it swished a little in the short marsh 

 grass, but chiefly it rushed by above me, in 

 invisible, soundless might. It seemed as if it 

 must come between me and the stars, but it 

 did not, and I watched them appear, at first 

 one by one, then in companies and cohorts, 

 until the sky was powdered with them. Now 

 and then a dark line of ducks streamed over 

 me, high up, in direct, steady flight, but the 

 sound of their wings was swallowed up by the 



