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In the Carquinez Woods by Bret Harte
page 52 of 144 (36%)
not restrain a parting backward glance as she left the ridge. Low
had descended to the deserted trail, and was running swiftly in the
direction of the Carquinez Woods.




CHAPTER IV


Teresa awoke with a start. It was day already, but how far advanced the
even, unchanging, soft twilight of the woods gave no indication.
Her companion had vanished, and to her bewildered senses so had the
camp-fire, even to its embers and ashes. Was she awake, or had she
wandered away unconsciously in the night? One glance at the tree above
her dissipated the fancy. There was the opening of her quaint retreat
and the hanging strips of bark, and at the foot of the opposite tree
lay the carcass of the bear. It had been skinned, and, as Teresa thought
with an inward shiver, already looked half its former size.

Not yet accustomed to the fact that a few steps in either direction
around the circumference of those great trunks produced the sudden
appearance or disappearance of any figure, Teresa uttered a slight
scream as her young companion unexpectedly stepped to her side. "You
see a change here," he said; "the stamped-out ashes of the camp-fire lie
under the brush," and he pointed to some cleverly scattered boughs
and strips of bark which completely effaced the traces of last night's
bivouac. "We can't afford to call the attention of any packer or hunter
who might straggle this way to this particular spot and this particular
tree; the more naturally," he added, "as they always prefer to camp over
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