choked with forest, there began to be rolling ridges,
some high; others were knolls; and a thick cedar growth made up for a
falling off of pine. The spruce had long disappeared. Juniper
thickets gave way more and more to the beautiful manzanita; and soon on
the south slopes appeared cactus and a scrubby live oak. But for the
well-broken trail, Jean would have fared ill through this tough brush.

Jean espied several deer, and again a coyote, and what he took to be a
small herd of wild horses. No more turkey tracks showed in the dusty
patches. He crossed a number of tiny brooklets, and at length came to
a place where the trail ended or merged in a rough road that showed
evidence of considerable travel. Horses, sheep, and cattle had passed
along there that day. This road turned southward, and Jean began to
have pleasurable expectations.

The road, like the trail, led down grade, but no longer at such steep
angles, and was bordered by cedar and pinyon, jack-pine and juniper,
mescal and manzanita. Quite sharply, going around a ridge, the road
led Jean's eye down to a small open flat of marshy, or at least grassy,
ground. This green oasis in the wilderness of red and timbered ridges
marked another change in the character of the Basin. Beyond that the
country began to spread out and roll gracefully, its dark-green forest
interspersed with grassy parks, until Jean headed into a long, wide
gray-green valley surrounded by black-fringed hills. His pulses
quickened here. He saw cattle dotting the expanse, and here and there
along the edge log cabins and corrals.

As a village, Grass Valley could not boast of much, apparently, in the
way of population. Cabins and houses were widely scattered, as if the
inhabitants did not care to encroach upon one another. But the one
store, built of stone, and stamped also with the characteristic
isolation, seemed to Jean to be a rather remarkable edifice. Not
exactly like a fort did it strike him, but if it had not been designed
for defense it certainly gave that impression, especially from the
long, low side with its dark eye-like windows about the height of a
man's shoulder. Some rather fine horses were tied to a hitching rail.
Otherwise dust and dirt and age and long use stamped this Grass Valley
store and its immediate environment.

Jean threw his bridle, and, getting down, mounted the low porch and
stepped into the wide open door. A face, gray against the background
of g