“Sure. I suppose a lot of our planes cross over the pass.”
“Quiet!” Gale warned. “I do hear planes, more than one, but they are far away.”
For a time they tramped in silence.
“Those planes are coming closer,” Gale murmured. “The sound is strange, not quite like a squadron of our own ships. They—”
“Look!” Jan exclaimed. “Up there ahead in that open space that’s like a clearing! There’s a queer light! Come on! Let’s have a look!”
Their rubber shoes making no sound, they sped forward to a bend in the trail. Then they saw it. A figure bending over a long stretch of flames in the trail.
“It’s a woman,” Gale whispered excitedly.
“A monk,” said Jan.
Woman or monk the figure darted into the brush.
And then the two girls saw it—a large, fiery cross burning in the trail.