n, horse and man, deeply, as it
were, into the very bowels of the forest. The path taken by the steed
grew every moment more and more intricate and difficult of access, and,
but for the interruption already referred to, it is not impossible that
a continued course in the same direction, would have brought the rider
to a full stop from the sheer inaccessibleness of the forest.

The route thus taken lay in a valley which was necessarily more fertile,
more densely packed with thicket, than the higher road which our rider
had been pursuing all the day. The branches grew more and more close;
and, what with the fallen trees, the spreading boughs, the undergrowth,
and broken character of the plain, our horseman was fain to leave the
horse to himself, finding quite enough to do in saving his eyes, and
keeping his head from awkward contact with overhanging timber. The pace
of the beast necessarily sunk into a walk. The question with his rider
was, in what direction to turn, to extricate himself from the mazes into
which he had so rashly ridden? While he mused this question, Blucher
started suddenly with evidently some new and exciting consciousness. His
ears were suddenly lifted--his eyes were strained upon the copse in
front--he halted, as if reluctant to proceed. It was evident that his
senses had taken in some sights, or sounds, which were unusual.

Of course, our traveller was by no means heedless of this behavior on
the part of the beast. He well knew the superior keenness of the brute
senses, over those of the man; and his own faculties were keenly
enlisted in the scrutiny. There might be wolves along the track--the
country was not wanting in them; or, more to be feared, there might be a
panther lurking along some great overhanging forest bough. There was
need to be vigilant. Either of these savages would make his propinquity
known, at a short distance, to the senses of an animal so timid as the
horse. Or, it might be, that a worse beast still--always worst of all
when he emulates the nature of the beast--man!--might be lurking upon
the track! If so, the nature of the peril was perhaps greater still, to
the rider if not the steed. The section of the wild world in which our
traveller journeyed was of doubtful character; but sparingly supplied
with good citizens; and most certainly infested with many with whom the
world had quarrelled--whom it had driven forth in shame and terror.

The youth thought of all these things. But