The Willows

by Algernon Blackwood

The psychology of places, for some imaginations at least, is very vivid; for the wanderer, especially, camps have their "note" either of welcome or rejection. At first it may not always be apparent, because the busy preparations of tent and cooking prevent, but with the first pause--after supper usually--it comes and announces itself.

But this second time I jumped up with a genuine start of terror. It was neither the wind nor the river that woke me, but the slow approach of something that caused the sleeping portion of me to grow smaller and smaller till at last it vanished altogether, and I found myself sitting bolt upright--listening.

I have never before been so clearly conscious of two persons in me--the one that explained everything, and the other that laughed at such foolish explanations, yet was horribly afraid.