But the third time he looked back the light of the sun was utterly gone! For an instant the knot rose up in his throat and choked him, and his eyes popped, and grew like little balls of fire in his intense desire to see through the gloom.

Even the girl, who was afraid of only one thing in the world, would have paused where Peter stood, with a little quickening of her heart.

For all the light of the day, it seemed to Peter, had suddenly died out.

Over his head the spruce and cedar and balsam tops grew so thick they were like a canopy of night.

Through them the snow never came in winter, and under them the light of a blazing sun was only a ghostly twilight.
And now, as he stood there, his whole soul burning with a desire to see his way out, Peter began to hear strange sounds.