istance, and in the vivid sunlight
he saw the shimmer of creeks and little lakes, and the rich glow of
thick patches of cedar and spruce and balsam, scattered like great rugs
of velvety luster amid the flowering green of the valley. Northward,
three or four miles away the range which he had climbed made a sharp
twist to the east, and that part of the valley--following the swing of
the range--was lost to him. He turned in this direction after he had
rested. It was four o'clock when he came to the elbow in the valley,
and could look down into the hidden part of it.

What he saw at first was a giant cup hollowed out of the surrounding
mountains, a cup two miles from brim to brim, the end of the valley
itself. It took him a few moments to focus his vision so that it would
pick up the smaller and more intimate things half a mile under him, and
yet, before he had done this, a sound came up to him that set aquiver
every nerve in his body. It was the far-down, hollow-sounding barking
of a dog.

The warm, golden haze that precedes sunset in the mountains, was
gathering between him and the valley, but through this he made out
after a time evidences of human habitation almost straight under him.
There was a small lake out of which ran a shimmering creek, and close
to this lake, yet equally near to the base of the mountain on which he
was standing, were a number of buildings and a stockade which looked
like a toy. He could see no animals, no movement of any kind.

Without seeking for a downward trail he began to descend. Again he did
not question himself. An overwhelming certainty possessed him. Of all
places in the world this must be the Valley of Silent Men.

And below him, flooded and half-hidden in the illusive sun-mist, was
Marette's old home. It seemed to him now that it belonged to him, that
he was a part of it, that in going to it he was achieving his last
great resting place, his final refuge, his own home. And the thought
became strangely a part of him that a welcome must be waiting for him
there. He hurried until his breath came pantingly between his lips and
he was forced to rest. And at last he found himself where his progress
was made a foot at a time, and again and again he was forced to climb
back and detour around treacherous slides and precipitous breaks which
left sheer falls at his feet. The mist thickened in the valley. The sun
sank behind the western peaks, and swiftly after that the gloom of
twilight deep