THIN ICE 



had been saturating the water was thus 

 escaping from solution. 



It was midday of this second day of 

 skating weather before I reached the 

 pond. The sky was overcast, the wind 

 piped shrill again, and there were snow- 

 squalls about. The pond was empty and 

 lone. I thought no living creature there 

 beside myself, and it was only at the 

 second call of a familiar voice that I be- 

 lieved I heard it. Then, indeed, I stopped 

 and listened up the wind. It came again, 

 a wild and lonely whistle that was half 

 a shout, beginning on the fifth of the 

 scale, sliding to the top of the octave, 

 and then to a third above, and I heard it 

 with amazement. The pond was firmly 

 covered with young ice. Why should a 

 loon be sitting out on it and hooting to 

 me? 



There was silence for a space while I 

 57 



