The trees were very still but in the undergrowth the life of the woods was beginning to stir.
Startled squirrels raced up the fallen logs, glancing backward with curious but resentful eyes.

Hidden skirmishings and rustlings were everywhere and something brown and furry darted across the path with a faint cry.
"Don't you feel as if you were in some fairy country ?" asked the girl.
"You can feel and hear them all about you though they keep well hidden.
A million eager eyes are watching, Lilliputian armies lie in ambush beneath the leaves.

How quiet they are now that we have stopped moving, but as soon as we go on the hurry and skurry will break out afresh! We are the invading army and the fairies fly to help the wood-folk protect their homes." As they branched into the deeper path the light grew dimmer.

Outside, it would still be clear golden twilight but here the grey had come.

And now the trees grew closer together and a whispering began--a weird and wonderful sighing from the soul of the forest; the old, primeval cry to the night and to the stars.
It was almost dark when they reached the tiny clearing by the lake.
Across the cleared space the water could be seen, faintly luminous, with the black square of the cabin outlined against it.