Isobel by James Oliver Curwood

For a few moments after uttering those words Billy stood silent listening for a sound that was not the low moaning of the wind far out on the Barren. He was sure that he had heard it -- something very near, almost at his feet, and yet it was a sound which he could not place or understand. He looked at the woman. She was gazing steadily at him.

"I hear it now," she said. "It is the wind. It has frightened me. It makes such terrible sounds at times -- out on the Barren. A little while ago -- I thought -- I heard -- a child crying -- "