a trace of her since!
"Star of heaven," he murmured, "where is she to-night? Where is my long lost darling? Guide me, oh, lead me, to her side!"
The bugle sounded "Lights out," and soon all was in silence in the Big Glen Barracks. Major Sterling still sat at his desk, studying the map before him, and occasionally glancing at several closely-written papers lying near. From the stable at one corner of the Square Norman Grey led forth a jet-black horse, and stood for a minute stroking her glossy neck. There was no one to bid him farewell, no one to grip his hand and speed him on his way. A slight sarcastic laugh escaped his lips as he sprang lightly into the saddle and headed Blackbird for the open road. He was going out alone, unnoticed. But he would return—and what then? Again he smiled, settled himself firmly in the saddle, and gave one word to Blackbird. Then the ring of steel-shod hoofs sounded along the gravelled way as horse and rider sped through the night, out of the Barracks Square, out of the little straggling town, and out upon a great lone trail stretching dim and uncertain beyond the farthest bounds of civilization.
CHAPTER II THE TERROR OF THE MOUNTAINS
The long trail wound and twisted far ahead, shimmering faintly in the light of the westering sun. Miles and miles of wild bunch grass, sage brush, and desolate sand met the eye, flanked on either side by high mountain ranges.
"Good Lord, what a trail!" muttered Norman Grey, regaining his seat with difficulty as Blackbird plunged her right foot into a concealed gopher hole. "Will this cursed valley never end? It's getting worse all the time."
Almost a week had now passed since he had swung away from Big Glen. Almost a week, and yet how much that brief period of six days contained. What desolate regions he had traversed, what streams forded, and what lonely nights he had spent upon the cold hard ground beneath the starry canopy of heaven. Thrice had he met Indians encamped along the way. Friendly were they, and had provided him with a liberal supply of tender moose meat. A mighty leveller is the northern trail. Here rank, title, creed and race fade into absurd insignificance. Here all useless appendages are swept aside. Here each stands for what he is, and his sole worth lies in himself. And here, too, in a region so vast, where the loneliness mocks and appals, the sight of a human face, though dark and uncouth, thrills the heart with a sweet gladness.
These children of the wandering foot looked with admiration upon the pale-faced stranger. They conversed with him in broken English, and slowly shook their heads when Grey pointed away to the left and mentioned the word "Hishu." As he started to leave the camp an Indian woman, old and scrawny, had laid her long, slim fingers upon the pommel of the saddle and looked up anxiously into his face.
"No, no, Hishu!" she cried, waving her left hand to and fro. "Bad, bad, ugh!"
So impressed was Grey by her earnestness and vehement manner that a foreboding chill smote his heart, and the reins dropped from his hand upon Blackbird's neck.
"Me no savvey. What you mean?" he demanded.
More emphatic now than ever did the unkempt creature become. She tried to explain herself, but her knowledge of the English language was slight, and her words developed into a torrent of unintelligible jargon. Seeing she was making but little impression upon the rider she suddenly seized the bridle with both hands, wheeled Blackbird sharply about, and headed her down the trail toward Big Glen.
"Go, go dat way," she cried. "No come back! No, no, Hishu!"
A slight smile of pity flitted across Grey's face at this woman's peculiar action. The momentary feeling of awe had vanished. He remembered how the Indians in the vicinity of Big Glen feared and shunned the Hishu region. No doubt these were of the same tribe, and believed the wild tales.
Two days had passed since then, and try as he might he could not banish that incident from his mind. It came to him now late this afternoon as Blackbird carefully picked her way among the innumerable gopher holes. The whole region was conducive to deep reflection. Sombre stood the rock-ribbed mountains. Silent throbbed the moistless air. Iron-grey stretched the sunburnt valley. To the lone rider crouched in his saddle the very atmosphere seemed to pulse with undercurrents of mystic forebodings. Hundreds of miles was he from civilisation, thousands of miles from home, a mere speck crawling over an execrable trail. What did it all amount to anyway? he asked himself time and time again. What had he gained during those five years of service in the Force? He was no nearer to her now than ever. What hopes had thrilled his heart when first he had entered upon his world-wide quest. He would find her, oh, yes. The world was large, he knew, but love would make it small. And this was the end—oblivion—merely for the sake of a child.
Presently Blackbird paused with a sharp jerk, causing Grey to look quickly up. The cause was at once apparent, for rammed across the trail was a long ragged ditch about three feet wide and four deep. With widely-extended nostrils and flashing eyes Blackbird had planted her forefeet close to the edge, and stood looking anxiously down into the excavation. On every side and far ahead stretched a chaotic maze of trenches. Some were short and narrow, while others were deep, and rods in length. This Grey knew to be the work of hungry bears in search of fat and toothsome gophers.
"Heavens, what a mess!" he exclaimed, as his eyes scanned the scene. "Grizzlies, I believe! There must be an army of them in this place. I only hope they've had their supper by this time, and will leave us alone. But if they do come they will receive a warm welcome," and he laid his hand upon the smooth dark barrel of his comforting rifle. "They will be flesh and blood, anyway, things I can see, and not those horrible unseen devils which have been torturing me the whole afternoon. Come on, you swine of the mountains!" he cried. "I fear you not. I'll send more fiery demons into your tough hides than the Master did long ago into the whole Gadarean herd." Grey was himself once more. The presence of danger affected him like a tonic. He even laughed at his morbid fears as he reined Blackbird to the left, and soothed her restless mettle with words of encouragement.
Slowly, very slowly the noble animal picked her way between the innumerable pitfalls. She was calm now. The spirit of the master was hers, and all fear was banished. For over an hour they moved steadily forward, and at length gained firmer ground where the earth was not disturbed. The sun was sinking behind a mountain peak as they left the valley and entered upon a deep ravine. The ascent was gradual, and at times the trail hung over high wooded banks. Up and up they moved through dark battalions of pine, spruce and fir. It was a weird place, and Grey breathed a sigh of relief when at length the summit was attained. Here he dismounted, tied Blackbird, and climbed far up into a large tree, towering high above its fellows. From this lofty position he was enabled to obtain an excellent view of the surrounding country. Back to the right he saw the valley over which they had lately painfully travelled, while ahead, and somewhat to the left, a river was to be seen lying like a long silver thread athwart the dusky landscape.
"It must be the Hishu," Grey muttered, as his eyes followed it away northward. "The place I'm bound for is, no doubt, somewhere over there. Should reach it to-morrow, and what then? Oh, well, I'm not going to worry about that now. It will soon be dark, and I must find a good camping spot. Down by the river is a likely place where those trees rise like millions of pointed spears. There should be grass for Blackbird down there on the level."
Leaving his lofty perch he descended the tree, unfastened Blackbird, and sprang into the saddle. Down the hill they slowly moved, the trail—if it could be called a trail—becoming more difficult all the time. At length they reached a hollow through which a little brook gurgled on its way to the river. Grey looked anxiously up and down, hoping to find a reach of wild meadow grass for the horse.
"Guess we'll have to go farther, lady," he remarked. "We must get you some supper, and there's nothing here."
Beyond the brook the trail wound up a steep incline, and curved sharply to the left around a large and almost perpendicular rock. Blackbird ascended the slope with an eager pace, for the tang of the wild meadows down by the river had drifted to her sensitive nostrils. She had just reached the flinty wall when with a terrified snort she threw high her