r
steps to the blazed trees. Being what you are, you are more valuable in
the tobacco fields than in the forest. Perhaps this is the stream which
flows by the cabin in the valley. We'll follow it down, and so arrive, at
least, at a conclusion."

They dismounted, and, leading their horses, followed the stream for some
distance, to arrive at the conclusion that it was not the one beside which
they had dined that day. When they were certain of this, they turned and
made their way back to the line of reeds which they had broken to mark
their starting-point. By now the moon was high, and the mockingbird in the
wood across the water was singing madly. Turning from the still, moonlit
sheet, the silent reeds, the clear mimicker in the slumbrous wood, the two
wayfarers plunged into the darkness beneath the spreading branches of the
oak-trees. They could not have ridden far from the pines; in a very little
while they might reach and recognize the path which they should tread.

An hour later, the great trees, oak and chestnut, beech and poplar,
suddenly gave way to saplings, many, close-set, and overrun with
grapevines. So dense was the growth, so unyielding the curtain of vines,
that men and horses were brought to a halt as before a fortress wall.
Again they turned, and, skirting that stubborn network, came upon a swamp,
where leafless trees, white as leprosy, stood up like ghosts from the
water that gleamed between the lily-pads. Leaving the swamp they climbed a
hill, and at the summit found only the moon and the stars and a long
plateau of sighing grass. Behind them were the great mountains; before
them, lesser heights, wooded hills, narrow valleys, each like its fellow,
each indistinct and shadowy, with no sign of human tenant.

Haward gazed at the climbing moon and at the wide and universal dimness of
the world beneath; then turned to the negro, and pointed to a few low
trees growing at the eastern end of the plateau.

"Fasten the horses there, Juba," he said. "We will wait upon this hilltop
until morning. When the light comes, we may be able to see the clearing or
the smoke from the cabin."

When the horses had been tethered, master and man lay down upon the grass.
It was so still upon the hilltop, and the heavens pressed so closely, that
the slave grew restless and strove to make talk. Failing in this, he began
to croon a savage, mournful air, and presently, forgetting himself, to
sing outright.

"Be quiet!" ordered h