aist, into a dim avenue, she looked down at me as she said:

"This is a dream-like country, and I never imagined anything so beautiful.
And yet it is familiar. Do you remember what you once said to me at Lone
Hollow?"

The question was wholly unnecessary, for I could remember each moment of
that night, and any one in touch with nature could understand her comment.
It was a great forest temple through which we were marching, where the
giant conifers were solemn with the antiquity of long ages, for it had
taken probably a thousand years to raise the vaulted roof above us, with
its groined arches of red branches and its mighty pillars of living wood.
Nature does all things slowly, but her handiwork is very good.

"Yes," Grace continued, "it seems familiar--as though you and I had
ridden together through such a country once before; I even seem to know
those great redwoods well. I--I think I dreamed it, but there is another
intangible memory in which you figured too."

"I could not be in better company," I answered, smiling, though my heart
beat. "We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is
rounded with a sleep, you know; and here among the mountains it seems
borne in on one forcibly that, as I told you my partner said, man's
intellect is feeble and we do not know everything."

Grace sighed, and then, though she answered lightly, there was the same
puzzled look on her face that I had seen for a moment at Cypress Hollow.
It seemed as if her mind reached forward toward something that eluded its
grasp, until we both broke into laughter as a willow-grouse disturbed by
the horse's feet rose whirring to a redwood branch and perched there,
close within reach, regarding us with an assurance that was ludicrous.

"It thinks it is perfectly safe," I said. "You might shoot until you hit
it, or knock it down with a stick, and yet there is no more timorous
creature among the undergrowth, unless it has a brood of chicks, when it
will attack any one."

At noon we rested for luncheon in an open glade, where bright sunlight
beat down upon the boulders of a stream which surged among them, stained
green by the drainage from a glacier; and there was merry laughter over
the viands Calvert produced from his pack.

"I did my best, Miss Carrington," he said, "but as yet they're a primitive
people among these mountains--and it's not to be wondered at, with that
huge rampart between them and civilization. 'Something nice for