With a strong hand and determined gesture she wheeled her frightened
horse back into the track, and rode him directly at the object. But here
she herself slightly recoiled, for it was the body of a man lying in the
road.

As she leaned forward over her horse's shoulder, she could see by the
dim light that he was a miner, and that, though motionless, he was
breathing stertorously. Drunk, no doubt!--an accident of the locality
alarming only to her horse. But although she cantered impatiently
forward, she had not proceeded a hundred yards before she stopped
reflectively, and trotted back again. He had not moved. She could now
see that his head and shoulders were covered with broken clods of earth
and gravel, and smaller fragments lay at his side. A dozen feet above
him on the hillside there was a foot trail which ran parallel with the
bridle-road, and occasionally overhung it. It seemed possible that he
might have fallen from the trail and been stunned.

Dismounting, she succeeded in dragging him to a safer position by the
bank. The act discovered his face, which was young, and unknown to her.
Wiping it with the silk handkerchief which was loosely slung around his
neck after the fashion of his class, she gave a quick feminine glance
around her and then approached her own and rather handsome face near his
lips. There was no odor of alcohol in the thick and heavy respiration.
Mounting again, she rode forward at an accelerated pace, and in twenty
minutes had reached a higher tableland of the mountain, a cleared
opening in the forest that showed signs of careful cultivation, and
a large, rambling, yet picturesque-looking dwelling, whose unpainted
red-wood walls were hidden in roses and creepers. Pushing open a
swinging gate, she entered the inclosure as a brown-faced man, dressed
as a vaquero, came towards her as if to assist her to alight. But she