The rest clustered about it, and all at once
they made a dash at the water.
Leo could see and hear everything. He felt that after all our doom was
now at hand, and yet, held in the grip of nightmare, if nightmare it
were, he was quite unable to stir or even to cry out to wake and warn
me.
Now followed the marvel of this vision. Giving tongue as they came, half
swimming and half plunging, the hounds drew near to the island where we
slept. Then, suddenly Leo saw that we were no longer alone. In front of
us, on the brink of the water, stood the figure of a woman clad in some
dark garment. He could not describe her face or appearance, for her back
was towards him.
All he knew was that she stood there, like a guard, holding some object
in her raised hand, and that suddenly the advancing hounds caught sight
of her. In an instant it was as though they were paralysed by fear--for
their bays turned to fearful howlings. One or two of those that were
nearest to the island seemed to lose their footing and be swept away by
the stream. The rest struggled back to the bank, and fled wildly like
whipped curs.
Then the dark, commanding figure, which in his dream Leo took to be the
guardian Spirit of the Mountain, vanished. That it left no footprints
behind it I can vouch, for in the morning we looked to see.
When, awakened by the sharp pangs in my arm, I opened my eyes again, the
dawn was breaking.
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