more than I thaw an hour ago."

"Look again. Don't you see that smoke rising straight up? It isn't blown
over there from the Divide; it's new smoke! The fire is in the woods!"

"I reckon that'th so," muttered Curson, shading his eyes with his hand.
"But, hullo! wait a minute! We'll get hortheth. I say!" he shouted,
forgetting his lisp in his excitement--"stop!" But Low had already
lowered his head and darted forward like an arrow.

In a few moments he had left not only his companion but the last
straggling houses of the outskirts far behind him, and had struck out in
a long, swinging trot for the disused "cut-off." Already he fancied he
heard the note of clamor in Indian Spring, and thought he distinguished
the sound of hurrying hoofs on the great highway. But the sunken trail
hid it from his view. From the column of smoke now plainly visible
in the growing morning light he tried to locate the scene of the
conflagration. It was evidently not a fire advancing regularly from the
outer skirt of the wood, communicated to it from the Divide; it was a
local outburst near its centre. It was not in the direction of his cabin
in the tree. There was no immediate danger to Teresa, unless fear drove
her beyond the confines of the wood into the hands of those who might
recognize her. The screaming of jays and ravens above his head quickened
his speed, as it heralded the rapid advance of the flames; and the
unexpected apparition of a bounding body, flattened and flying over
the yellow plain, told him that even the secure retreat of the
mountain wild-cat had been invaded. A sudden recollection of Teresa's
uncontrollable terror that first night smote him with remorse and
redoubled his efforts. Alone in the track of these frantic and
bewildered beasts, to what madness might she not be driven!