"How interesting! Then that means this trail was made twenty years ago!" said Barbara.
"Maybe twenty times twenty years ago, for all we know. Nobody really knows how old this trail is, for it was used by the Indians as far back as the oldest trappers and hunters know and have heard tell from their fathers and grandfathers!" replied Polly, swinging into the saddle and telling Noddy to proceed.
The little burro obediently went into the seemingly impassable thicket, the other horses following. After they had traveled for ten or fifteen yards, the undergrowth thinned until they were going on pine-needle-covered ground as soft as moss. The silent forest with its sentinel pines, spreading a canopy overhead, seemed like another world from the bright glare of the one left behind that morning.
The trees were so tall and majestic, with great fragrant green tops that scarcely allowed a sunbeam to penetrate to the pale green twilight underneath, that a solemn peace pervaded the minds of the young adventurers. The singing of birds, or the crackling of dry twigs, as wild creatures sprang over them, were the only sounds heard.
No shrubs or vegetation obstructed this impressive place, so the girls rode on in silence, until the trail ascended again. Near the confines of this forest, Polly suddenly reined in Noddy and held out a warning hand. Right across their pathway sped a young deer. It paused by the side of a sheltering pine-trunk, with head erect and fore-foot poised gracefully, gazing steadily at the strange creatures who dared intrude upon those sacred precincts!
It as suddenly vanished again, and the girls breathed deeply.
"Oh, for our camera!" cried Eleanor.
"How stupid of us to leave it home," added Barbara.
"It's always the way. Who remembers a kodak until it is needed," laughed Anne.
"John promised to bring me a fine camera this summer, but he never came home from college, so I didn't get it," said Polly, wistfully.