fair to the eye, an alluring
pasture to the unwary. An experienced eye might have judged it too
green--too alluring. Could a more perfect trap be devised by evil human
ingenuity than this? Think for one instant of a bottomless pit of liquid
soil, absorbing in its peculiar density. Think of all the horrors of a
quicksand, which, embracing, sucks down into its cruel bosom the
despairing victim of its insatiable greed. Think of a thin, solid crust,
spread like icing upon a cake and concealing the soft, spongy matter
beneath, covering every portion of the cruel plain; a crust which yields
a crop of luxurious, enticing grass of the most perfect emerald hue; a
crust firm in itself and dry looking, and yet not strong enough to bear
the weight of a good-sized terrier. And what imagination can possibly
conceive a more cruel--more perfect trap for man or beast? Woe to the
creature which trusts its weight upon that treacherous crust. For one
fleeting instant it will sway beneath the tread, then, in the flash of a
thought, it will break, and once the surface gives no human power can
save the victim. Down, down into the depths must the poor wretch be
plunged, with scarce time to offer a prayer to God for the poor soul
which so swiftly passes to its doom. Such is the muskeg; and surely more
terrible is it than is that horror of the navigator--the quicksands.

The girl led the way without as much as a passing thought for the
dangers which surrounded her. Truly had her companion said "I don't see
the path," for no path was to be seen. But Jacky had learned her lesson
well--and learned it from one who read the prairie as the Bedouin reads
the desert. The path was there and with a wondrous assurance she
followed its course.

The travelers moved silently along. No word was spoken; each was wrapped
in thought. Now and again a stray prairie chicken would fly up from
their path with a whirr, and speed across the mire, calling to its mate
as it went. The drowsy chirrup of frogs went on unceasingly around, and
already the ubiquitous mosquito was on the prowl for human gore.

The upstanding horses now walked with down-drooped heads, with sniffing
noses low towards the ground, ears cocked, and with alert, careful
tread, as if fully alive to the danger of their perilous road. The
silence of that ride teemed with a thrill of danger. Half an hour passed
and then the girl gathered up her reins and urged her willing horse into
a canter.

"Come o