hich formed a wagon trail, was very narrow, and even
though the sun had not yet set, the spot was dark and sombre by reason of
the wall of pine trees which lined it upon each side.

Just for a second Rosebud experienced the dark moody influence of the
gloomy pine canopy beneath which she was to plunge. Like all high-spirited
creatures she had no love for any form of gloom. And there is nothing in
nature that can compare with the American pinewoods for gloom. Stately,
magnificent, if you will, but funereal in their gloom.

Something of her surroundings now found reflection in the expression of
her fair face as she plunged down the solemn aisles of black, barren tree
trunks, like columns supporting the superstructure of some Gothic
cathedral.

Her broncho was forced to take his way carefully, and thus his gait was
reduced to little better than a walk. Further in, the tree-trunks gave way
occasionally to patches of undergrowth. Then they became mixed with other
growths. Maple and spruce held place and made her course more awkward, and
further hindered her. The blue gums crowded so closely that frequently she
was driven to considerable detour. Gradually the maze began to confuse
her. She started to reckon the whereabouts of the river, a process which
confused her more. But she kept on, her whole attention concentrated,--so
much so that even her object was almost forgotten.

So engrossed was she that she failed to notice that her horse had suddenly
become very alert. His large, low-bred ears, that weathercock of the
horseman, were pricked up, and he looked inquiringly from side to side as
he picked his way. Once he gave a short, suppressed whinny.

The girl's perplexity, however, was strong upon her. She did not hear it,
or, if she did, it conveyed nothing to her. Her brows were puckered, and
she gazed only ahead. Had she paused she must have heard that which had
drawn her horse's attention. But she kept on, struggling with the maze
about her, and so heard no sound of the breaking brush upon either side of
her.

She was more than half-way to the bridge, when, to her intense relief, she
saw daylight ahead through the overshadowing foliage. She pushed on
urgently, and sighed her relief; it was a clearing. That opening meant
more to her than she would have admitted. To see the sky again, to breathe
air that was fresh, free from the redolence of the forest underlay, was
all she desired.

The clearing was fringed with a lo