I know that Gruhuken is haunted.
I knew at once that it wasn't some trapper from a nearby camp, or a polar mirage, or that hoary excuse, 'a trick of the light.' The mind does not suggest explanations that don't fit the facts, only to reject them a moment later. I knew what it was. I knew, with some ancient part of me, that it wasn't alive.
I've just realized the significance of what I wrote about the doghouse. Something opened the doghouse door.