Prudence shook her head. Her prairie instincts were roused now.
“No; come along; give your mare her head. Our horses will find the way.”
They touched the animals sharply, and, in response, they moved forward unhesitatingly. The old mare Alice was riding took the lead, and the journey was continued. The gloom of the forest communicated something of its depressing influence to the travellers. There was no longer any attempt at talk. Each was intent upon ascertaining their whereabouts and watching the alert movements of the horses’ heads and ears. The darkness had closed in in the forest with alarming suddenness, and, in consequence, the progress was slow; but, in spite of this, the assurance with which the horses moved on brought confidence to the minds of the two girls. Prudence was in no way disturbed. Alice was not quite so calm. For an hour they threaded their way through the endless maze of 177 trees. They had climbed hills and descended into valleys, but still no break in the dense foliage above. They had just emerged from one hollow, deeper and wider than the rest, and were slowly ascending a steep hill. Prudence was suddenly struck by an idea.
“Alice,” she said, “I believe we are heading for the ranch. The valleys all run north and south hereabouts. We are travelling westwards.”
“I hope so,” replied the other decidedly; “we shall then be able to get on the right trail for home. This is jolly miserable. O––oh!”
The girl’s exclamation was one of horror. A screech-owl had just sent its dreadful note in melancholy waves out upon the still night air. It started low, almost pianissimo, rose with a hideous crescendo to fortissimo, and then died away like the wail of a lost soul. It came from just ahead of them and to the right. Alice’s horse shied and danced nervously. Prudence’s horse stood stock still. Then, as no further sound came, they started forward again.
“My, but those owls are dreadful things,” said Alice. “I believe I nearly fainted.”
“Come on,” said Prudence. “After all they are only harmless owls.” Her consolatory words were as much for the benefit of her own nerves as for those of her friend.
The brow of the hill was passed and they began to descend the other side. Suddenly they saw the twinkling of stars ahead. Alice first caught sight of the welcome clearing.
“An opening at last, Prue; now we shall find out where we are.” A moment later she turned again. 178 “A light,” she said. “That must be the ranch. Quick, come along.”