There was something in the awesome darkening of the world that brought them closer in that moment, and without speaking Philip found her hand and held it in his own.

They heard then a low whispering sound--a sound that came creeping up out of the end of the world like a living thing; a whisper so vast that, after a little, it seemed to fill the universe, growing louder and louder until it was no longer a whisper but a moaning, shrieking wail.

It was appalling as the first blast of it swept over the cabin.

No other place in the world is there storm like the storm that sweeps over the Great Barren; no other place in the world where storm is filled with such a moaning, shrieking tumult of VOICE.

It was not new to Philip.