Below Vienna, the Danube floods out into a wilderness of sandbars and willow scrub that the maps mark only as marshes. Two old friends, an Englishman and a Swede, beach their canoe on a small island to wait out a gale. The wind won’t drop. The willows won’t keep still. By morning, one of them has stopped making jokes.
H. P. Lovecraft ranked Algernon Blackwood’s 1907 novella above every other supernatural tale in English.
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