CHAPTER II

THE COURT OF THE ORPHAN


An hour before dusk found the company that had dined in the valley making
their way up the dry bed of a stream, through a gorge which cleft a line
of precipitous hills. On either hand the bank rose steeply, giving no
footing for man or beast. The road was a difficult one; for here a tall,
fern-crowned rock left but a narrow passage between itself and the shaggy
hillside, and there smooth and slippery ledges, mounting one above the
other, spanned the way. In places, too, the drought had left pools of
dark, still water, difficult to avoid, and not infrequently the entire
party must come to a halt while the axemen cleared from the path a fallen
birch or hemlock. Every man was afoot, none caring to risk a fall upon the
rocks or into the black, cold water of the pools. The hoofs of the horses
and the spurs of the men clanked against the stones; now and then one of
the heavily laden packhorses stumbled and was sworn at, and once a warning
rattle, issuing from a rank growth of fern on the hillside, caused a
momentary commotion. There was no more laughter, or whistling, or calling
from the van to the rear guard. The way was arduous, and every man must
watch his footsteps; moreover, the last rays of the sun were gilding the
hilltops above them, and the level that should form their camping-place
must be reached before the falling of the night.

The sunlight had all but faded from the heights, when one of the company,