as no sound but the rustling murmur
of the leaves and the tiny, mysterious noises of the little creatures of
the night whose realm she had invaded. Now and again she tried to move
and disentangle herself from the strong branches that held her; but they
pressed her down, the thorns pinned her clothes, and her bruised side
ached with every movement--and she was forced to lie still again and
listen for some sound of the jampannis, who must surely be looking for
her.

Presently, on the road above, there sounded, very faint and far off, the
tramp of shod feet. She called again, and the tramp quickened to a run,
and a man's voice shouted in the distance: "Hullo! Hullo!"

As the steps came nearer above her, she cried again: "Help! I am
here--down the _kudd_."

In the leafy stillness her shrill young voice rang far and clear.

"Where are you?" came the answering voice.

"Down the _kudd_."

The steps stopped on the road above.

"Are you there?" the voice called. "I see something white glimmering."

"I am here," she answered; then, as the bushes crackled above her, she
called a warning: "It is very steep. Be careful."

Very slowly and cautiously the steps came down the steep side of the
_kudd_ to an accompaniment of rolling stones and crashing and tearing
branches, and now and then a muttered exclamation. Then she was aware of
a white face glimmering out of the darkness.

"Are you there?" said the voice again, quite close to her.

"Yes, I am here, but I cannot move; the branches hold me down."

"Wait a moment. I will get a light."

She was lying on her back, and, turning her head a little, she could see
a match struck and the face it illuminated--a strong, dark, clean-shaven
face; a close-cropped, dark, uncovered head. The match was held over her
for a moment, then it went out.

"I see where you are," said the rescuer, "we must try to get you out.
Are you hurt?"

"I have hurt my side, I think," she said.

Without more words he knelt down beside her and began to tear away and
loosen the short, sturdy branches; then he took her under the shoulders,
and drew her slowly along the ground. There was a great rending and
tearing in every direction of her delicate garments; but at last she was
free of the clinging thorns and branches.

"I am afraid the thorns have scratched you a good deal," he said in a
very matter-of-fact voice. "Will you try if you can stand up now? Lean
on me."

Elma scrambled to her feet, and s