A TALE OF THE GRAND JARDIN 



greater fear, bethink me that this in- 

 deed was the Lake of Hell. The pursu- 

 ing cry, rising ever and anon above all 

 other sounds, kept nerve and muscle 

 strung in the agony of the desire to 

 escape. Crawling out exhausted and 

 breathless, but stopping no instant, I 

 plunged down the mountain-side; 

 staggering, falling, clutching, somehow 

 I reached the bottom, and pitched into 

 a bed of moss, like an animal shot 

 through the neck. 



"When I could breathe and feel and 

 hear again, my ears caught only the 

 sounds of the retreating storm and of a 

 rapid on the river. Stumbling painfully 

 towards it, I saw with inexpressible joy 

 the light of a fire, where my men had 

 camped when overtaken by darkness 

 and the tempest. 



"The next day I went out of the 

 woods, the men returning to bring in 

 tent and canoe. They met with nothing, 



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