But as the ravishing notes of her sweet voice died upon the air,
her hands sank listlessly to her side. Music could not chase away
the mysterious shadow from her heart. Again she rose. Putting on
a white crape bonnet, and carefully drawing a pair of lemon-colored
gloves over her taper fingers, she seized her parasol and plunged
into the depths of the pine forest.


CHAPTER IV.


Genevra had not proceeded many miles before a weariness seized upon
her fragile limbs, and she would fain seat herself upon the trunk
of a prostrate pine, which she previously dusted with her
handkerchief. The sun was just sinking below the horizon, and the
scene was one of gorgeous and sylvan beauty. "How beautiful is
Nature!" murmured the innocent girl, as, reclining gracefully
against the root of the tree, she gathered up her skirts and tied a
handkerchief around her throat. But a low growl interrupted her
meditation. Starting to her feet, her eyes met a sight which froze
her blood with terror.

The only outlet to the forest was the narrow path, barely wide
enough for a single person, hemmed in by trees and rocks, which she
had just traversed. Down this path, in Indian file, came a
monstrous grizzly, closely followed by a California lion, a wild-
cat, and a buffalo, the rear being brought up by a wild Spanish
bull. The mouths of the three first animals were distended with