122 WANDERINGS AND MEMORIES 



brightly outside. For hours I tossed about un- 

 easily, and whenever I tried to doze I sprang up 

 again with the idea that there was a woman moving 

 about the room. Presently the rays of the moon 

 penetrated to the room (there being no blinds) and 

 fell upon the bed. What now attracted my atten- 

 tion was the peculiar pattern on the counterpane 

 there were many dark, irregular patches all over it, 

 but the principal design in the centre seemed 

 exactly to fit the outline of my own figure as I lay 

 in bed. The hours crept slowly on, and at last, 

 being unable to sleep, and still half frozen, I arose 

 and got out my reindeer bag, which I placed on the 

 top of the bed and crept in. Even then sleep 

 refused to come, and the mysterious sounds of some 

 one moving close to the bed continued. I often 

 tried closing my eyes, and then, after gauging the 

 direction of what seemed like rustling skirts, I 

 opened them suddenly. There was nothing there. 



So the night passed, and at about six I arose, 

 resolved to get out of that horrible room. No one 

 was stirring, so I started to get my kit in order and 

 remove it downstairs. The morning sun streamed 

 in, and as I lifted the reindeer bag from the bed 

 I saw plainly the central design on the counterpane. 

 It was the perfect outline of a woman in black, whilst 

 the stains around were blood red. 



I can only say that I fled downstairs three steps 

 at a time, and out into the sunlight. An hour later 

 Steve Bernard, my Indian, fetched my kit from the 

 room, and after a hurried breakfast, at which Ryan 

 was as jolly and cheery as ever, we started on our 

 journey up the river. 



Two nights afterwards, whilst sitting over the 



