This was a break into new
territory. Time was small enough object to her, and, besides, her pony
needed time to recuperate from its leg weariness.
It required less than ten minutes, however, to banish every other
thought from her mind and absorb it in amazement at her discovery. A
brief battle with a dense and obstinate scrub found her standing in the
centre of a wide sort of bridle path, scored with a dozen or so cattle
tracks crowded with the spurs of driven cattle.
She stood gazing down at the signs everywhere about her in the loose
sand, dumbfounded at the sight. She knew there was no homestead or
ranch within miles of this region. Was she not bitterly aware that her
own home marked the fringe of the cattle world in this direction?
Slowly there grew in the depths of her heart a feeling of apprehension.
The stillness, the remoteness, the tremendous solitude, and yet--those
tracks.
She stood intent and listening. Her ears were straining for a sound.
But only there came to her the whispering breezes rustling the mournful
foliage of the pine woods behind her.
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