For a few moments only the plunging hoofs and rattling wheels were
heard. A dull, lurid glow began to define the horizon. They were silent
until an abatement of the smoke, the vanishing of the gloomy horizon
line, and a certain impenetrability in the darkness ahead showed them
they were nearing the Carquinez Woods. But they were surprised on
entering them to find the dim aisles alight with a faint mystic Aurora.
The tops of the towering spires above them had caught the gleam of the
distant forest fires, and reflected it as from a gilded dome.

"It would be hot work if the Carquinez Woods should conclude to take a
hand in this yer little game that's going on over on the Divide yonder,"
said Brace, securing his horse and glancing at the spires overhead.
"I reckon I'd rather take a back seat at Injin Spring when the show
commences."

Dunn did not reply, but, buttoning his coat, placed one hand on his
companion's shoulder, and sullenly bade him "lead the way." Advancing
slowly and with difficulty the desperate man might have been taken for a
peaceful invalid returning from an early morning stroll. His right hand
was buried thoughtfully in the side pocket of his coat. Only Brace knew
that it rested on the handle of his pistol.

From time to time the latter stopped and consulted the faint trail with
a minuteness that showed recent careful study. Suddenly he paused. "I
made a blaze hereabouts to show where to leave the trail. There it is,"
he added, pointing to a slight notch cut in the trunk of an adjoining
tree.

"But we've just passed one," said Dunn, "if that's what you are looking