Like a shroud around me cast,
As I sank upon the snow-drift
Where the shadow hunter passed.

"'And the otter-trappers found me,
Before the break of day,
With my dark hair blanched and whitened
As the snow in which I lay.

"'But they spoke not as they raised me;
For they knew that in the night
I had seen the shadow hunter
And had withered in his sight.

"'Sancta Maria speed us!
The sun is fallen low:
Before us lies the valley
Of the Walker of the Snow!'"

"Ah!" exclaimed my companion. "Let us pile on more of those dry birch-
logs; I feel both the 'fear-chill' and the 'cold-chill' creeping over
me. How far is it to the valley of the Neversink?"

"About three or four hours' march, the man said."

"I hope we have no haunted valleys to cross?"

"None," said I, "but we pass an old log cabin about which there hangs a
ghostly superstition. At a certain hour in the night, during the time
the bark is loose on the hemlock, a female form is said to steal from