Consider Her Ways by Frederick Philip Grove

For a long while--in fact, for over a year--life thus went on placidly enough. The moulds growing on this human literature furnished an inexhaustible and nourishing though, to me, slightly unpalatable food; the temperature was almost as equable as in our brood-chambers; and we seemed to be perfectly safe.

Then I had the first terrifying intimation of the fact that our presence had not remained unnoticed. What I am about to relate forms one of the most harassing memories of this period; and it is with some hesitation that I set it down; only a strict regard for truth forces me not to suppress a single feature of the adventure.