She had come upon the cave by chance in her ride with Dan, and
now she hunted vainly through the great stones for the entrance. A fresh
wind, chill with the snows of the upper peaks, pulled and tugged at her and
cut her face and hands with flying bits of sand. It kept up a whistling so
insistent that it was some time before she recognized in the hum of the
gale a different note, not of pleasant music, but a thin, shrill sound that
blended with the voice of the wind.
The instant she heard it she stopped short on the lee side of a tall rock
and looked about her in terror. The mountains walked away on every side,
and those resolute masses gave her courage. She listened, for the big rock
cut away the breath of the wind about her ears and she could make out the
whistling more clearly. It was a strain as delicate as a pin point ray of
light in a dark room, but it made Kate tremble.
Until the sound ended she stayed there by the rock, hearkening, but the
moment it ceased she gathered her resolution with a great effort and went
straight toward the source of the whistling.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229