ad passed through
other affections, while hers had never throbbed with any save the
subdued solicitudes of a graceful childhood. She had never known
emotion. Love was her first strong feeling, her first passion. Would
it not, thus enthroned, reign over all other thoughts in her heart's
kingdom? She, too, so formed for love; so like its mythic goddess!

These reflections were pleasant. But the picture darkened as I turned
from looking back for the last time, and something whispered me, some
demon it was, "You may never see her more!"

The suggestion, even in this hypothetical form, was enough to fill my
mind with dark forebodings, and I began to cast my thoughts upon the
future. I was going upon no party of pleasure, from which I might
return at a fixed hour. Dangers were before me, the dangers of the
desert; and I knew that these were of no ordinary character. In our
plans of the previous night, Seguin had not concealed the perils of our
expedition. These he had detailed before exacting my final promise to
accompany him. Weeks before, I would not have regarded them--they would
only have lured me on to meet them; now my feelings were different, for
I believed that in my life there was another's. What, then, if the
demon had whispered truly? I might never see her more! It was a
painful thought; and I rode on, bent in the saddle, under the influence
of its bitterness.

But I was once more upon the back of my favourite Moro, who seemed to
"know his rider"; and as his elastic body heaved beneath me, my spirit
answered his, and began to resume its wonted buoyancy.

After a while I took up the reins, and shortening them in my hands,
spurred on after my companions. Our road lay up the river, crossing the
shallow ford at intervals, and winding through the bottom-lands, that
were heavily timbered. The path was difficult on account of the thick
underwood; and although the trees had once been blazed for a road, there
were no signs of late travel upon it, with the exception of a few
solitary horse-tracks. The country appeared wild and uninhabited. This
was evident from the frequency with which deer and antelope swept across
our path, or sprang out of the underwood close to our horses' heads.
Here and there our path trended away from the river, crossing its
numerous loops. Several times we passed large tracts where the heavy
timber had been felled, and clearings had existed. But this must have
been long ago, fo