he became aware that he was beginning a steep ascent. Was the trail
going to lead him up a mountain-side? The way grew yet more rugged.
Every step was a misery. Jagged edges of rock and never-ending roots
seemed to brand themselves with burning friction upon his feet, through
their soft buckskin covering. He tried to hearten himself into a belief
that he must soon reach some mountain camp or settlement.

But a bleak horror threw a gray shade upon his face as his staring eyes
saw that the trail was growing fainter--fainter--fainter. At the foot of
a steep crag, where a mass of earth, stones, and dead spruce-trees
showed that there had lately been a landslide on the mountain above, he
lost it altogether. It had led him to a pile of rubbish.




CHAPTER VII.

A FOREST GUIDE-POST.


At the foot of that crag Dol stood still, while a great shiver crept
from his neck up the back of his head, stirring his hair. He peered in
every direction; but there was no sign of a camp, nothing to show that
any human foot before his had disturbed the solitude of this
mountain-side, and no further marks on the ground, save one impression
on a bed of earth at his feet where some animal had lately lain.

The disappointment was stupefying.