Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
nothing below but the sea, heaving, expanding, ap- 
palling, so he rose and flew again for a long, long 
time, then he descended to find—the awful sea. 
He arose once more, flew on and on and on, and still 
on, but the sea was below him. Then the snow- 
storm ceased, the sky cleared off as the sun began 
to go down, and the Bat’s little eyes could glance 
round and round to see nothing but heaving sea, 
no sight of tree or land or any other Bats, nothing 
but the dark, hungry waters. He flew, not knowing 
whither or why, the only guide being the wind now 
falling; he was no longer numbed with cold, but he 
was wearied to the very bone. 
Yet the only choice was go on or go down, so he 
flapped and sailed as he had since the dawn, and 
when the favoring breeze died away he soared a 
little, hoping to find another helpful wind, and 
sailed with his worn, weary wings—sailed as the 
hunger pang weakened him—-sailed, not the least 
knowing whither. Had he had the mind of an- 
other being, that thought might have struck him 
down, but his animal frame was strong, his vision of 
danger was small, and he sailed ever onward and on. 
THE REMORSELESS SEA 
An hour, and another hour, slowly passed; the 
sun had gone, the soft light that he loved was com- 
201 
