Читать книгу The Complete Works of Algernon Blackwood. Novels, Short Stories, Horror Classics, Occult & Supernatural Tales, Plays онлайн

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'It's fearfully rickety,' Joan said breathlessly.

'But there's no danger,' whispered Nixie,' because this is an evergreen tree, and it doesn't go with the others.'

'How—"Go with the others?" 'asked the two in the same breath.

'Trees,' answered the child. 'They're emigrating. Look! Listen!'

'Migrating,' suggested Paul.

'Of course,' Nixie said, poking her head higher to see into the sky. 'Trees go away south in the autumn just like birds—the real trees; their insides, I mean, 'Their spirits,' Paul explained in his lowest whisper to Joan.

'That's why they lose their leaves. And in the spring they come back with all their new blossoms and things. If they find nicer places in the south, they stay, that's all. They—die. Listen—you can hear them going!'

High up in that still autumn sky there ran a sweet and curious sound, difficult to describe. Joan thought it was like the rustle of countless leaves falling: the tiny tapping noise made by a dying leaf as it settles on the ground—multiplied enormously; but to Paul it seemed that sudden, dream-like whirr of a host of birds when they wheel sharply in mid-air—heard at a distance. There was no question about the distance at any rate.