the unknown wilderness.

A wolf mourned, and the sound, clear and sharp, startled her. But
remembering Slingerland's word that no beast would be likely to harm her
in the warm season, she was reassured. Soon she had crossed the narrow
back of the ridge, to see below another valley like the one she had
left, but without the tents and fires. Descent was easy and she covered
ground swiftly. She feared lest she should come upon a stream in flood.
Again she mounted a slope, zigzagging up, going slowly, reserving her
strength, pausing often to rest and to listen, and keeping a straight
line with the star she had marked. Climbing was hard work, however
slowly she went, just as going down was a relief to her wearied legs.

In this manner she climbed four ridges and crossed three valleys before
a rest became imperative. Now dawn was near, as was evidenced by the
paling stars and the gray in the east. It would be well for her to
remain on high ground while day broke.

So she rested, but, soon cooling off, she suffered with the cold.
Huddling down in the grass against a stone, and facing the east, she
waited for dawn to break.

The stars shut their eyes; the dark blue of sky turned gray; a pale
light seemed to suffuse itself throughout the east. The valley lay
asleep in shadow, the ridges awoke in soft gray mist. Far down over the
vastness and openness of the plains appeared a ruddy glow. It warmed, it
changed, it brightened. A sea of cloudy vapors, serene and motionless,
changed to rose and pink; and a red curve slid up over the distant
horizon. All that world of plain and cloud and valley and ridge
quickened as with the soul of day, while it colored with the fire of
sun. Red, radiant, glorious, the sun rose.

It was the dispeller of gloom, the bringer of hope. Allie Lee, lost on
the heights, held out her arms to the east and the sun, and she cried:
"Oh, God!... Oh, Neale--Neale!"

When she turned to look down into the valley below she saw the white
winding ribbon-like trail, and with her eyes she followed it to where
the valley opened wide upon the plains.

She must go down the slope to the cover of the trees and brush, and
there work along eastward, ever with eye alert. She must meet with
travelers within a few days, or perish of starvation, or again fall into
the hands of the Sioux. Thirst she did not fear, for the recent heavy
rain had left waterholes everywhere.

With action her spirit lightened and the numbness of