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The Willows by Algernon Blackwood
page 29 of 67 (43%)
experiences were not corroborated, I could find strength somehow to deny
them, perhaps. With the daylight I could persuade myself that it was all a
subjective hallucination, a fantasy of the night, a projection of the
excited imagination.

Nothing further came in to disturb me, and I fell asleep almost at once,
utterly exhausted, yet still in dread of hearing again that weird sound of
multitudinous pattering, or of feeling the pressure upon my heart that had
made it difficult to breathe.

The sun was high in the heavens when my companion woke me from a heavy
sleep and announced that the porridge was cooked and there was just time to
bathe. The grateful smell of frizzling bacon entered the tent door.

"River still rising," he said, "and several islands out in mid-stream have
disappeared altogether. Our own island's much smaller."

"Any wood left?" I asked sleepily.

"The wood and the island will finish tomorrow in a dead heat," he laughed,
"but there's enough to last us till then."

I plunged in from the point of the island, which had indeed altered a lot
in size and shape during the night, and was swept down in a moment to the
landing-place opposite the tent. The water was icy, and the banks flew by
like the country from an express train. Bathing under such conditions was
an exhilarating operation, and the terror of the night seemed cleansed out
of me by a process of evaporation in the brain. The sun was blazing hot;
not a cloud showed itself anywhere; the wind, however, had not abated one
little jot.
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