it was a little lighter, and she could see her way.

She saw at once that she had come to a trail, and, though she had never
seen it before, she guessed that it was the one that led to Deer
Mountain, from what Miss Eleanor had told her about the trails about
the camp. And, moreover, as she started to follow it, convinced that the
gypsy, on finding it, would have abandoned the rougher traveling of the
uncut woods, she saw something that almost wrung a cry of startled joy
from her.

It was not much that she saw, only a fragment of white cloth, caught in
the branches of a bush that had pushed itself out onto the trail. But it
was as good as a long letter, for the cloth was from Dolly's dress, and
it was plain and unmistakable evidence that her chum had been carried
along this trail.

She walked on more quickly now, pausing about once in a hundred yards to
listen for sounds of those who were, as she was convinced, ahead of her,
and, about half a mile beyond the spot where she had found that white
pointer, she saw another piece of mute but convincing evidence, of
exactly the same sort, and caught in the same way.

As Bessie kept on, the ground continued to rise, and she realized that
she must be on the crest of Deer Mountain, one of the heights that
lifted itself above the level of the surrounding woods. Although a high
mountain, the climb from Long Lake was not a particularly severe one,
for all the ground was so high that even the highest peaks in the range
that was covered by these woods did not seem, unless one were looking at
them from a distance of many miles, in the plain below, to be as high as
they really were.