he pack lashed on the saddle of her own
mount.

Whatever man or demon had done this work evidently intended that she
should ride Wilbur's beautiful bay. Yes, for when she went closer,
drawn by her wonder, she found that the stirrups had been much
shortened.

Nothing was forgotten by this invisible caretaker; he had even left out
the cooking-tins, and she found a little batter of flapjack flour mixed.

The riddle was too great for solving. Perhaps Wilbur had disappeared
merely to play a practical jest on her; but that supposition was too
childish to be retained an instant. Perhaps--perhaps Pierre himself
had discovered her, but having vowed never to see her again, he cared
for her like the invisible hands in the old Greek fable.

This, again, an instinctive knowledge made her dismiss. If he were so
close, loving her, he could not stay away; she read in her own heart,
and knew. Then it must be something else; evil, because it feared to
be seen; not wholly evil, because it surrounded her with care.

At least this new emotion obscured somewhat the terror and the sorrow
of Wilbur's disappearance. She cooked her breakfast as if obeying the
order of the unseen, climbed into the saddle of Wilbur's horse, and
started off up the valley, leading her own mount.

Every moment or so she turned in the saddle suddenly in the hope of
getting a glimpse of the follower, but even when she surveyed the
entire stretch of country from the crest of a low hill, she saw
nothing--not the least sign of life.

She rode slowly, this day, for she was stiff and sore from the violent
journey of the night before, but though she went slowly, she kept
steadily at the trail. It was a broad and pleasant one, being the
beaten sand of the river-bottom; and the horse she rode was the finest
that ever pranced beneath her.

His trot was as smooth and springy as the gallop of most horses, and
when she let him run over a few level stretches, it was as if she had
suddenly been taken up from the earth on wings. There was something
about the animal, too, which reminded her of its vanished owner; for it
had strength and pride and gentleness at once. Unquestionably it took
kindly to its new rider; for once when she dismounted the big horse
walked up behind and nuzzled her shoulder.

The mountains were much plainer before the end of the day. They rose
sheer up in wave upon frozen wave like water piled ragged by some
terrific gale, with the tops of t