So long as the wagon crawled up the ascent the girl knew she could easily keep up with it, or even distance the tired horses.  She made one or two incursions into the wood, returning like an animal from quest of food, with something in her mouth, which she was tentatively chewing, and once only with some inedible mandrono berries, plucked solely for their brilliant coloring.  It was very hot and singularly close; the higher current of air had subsided, and, looking up, a singular haze seemed to have taken its place between the treetops.  Suddenly she heard a strange, rumbling sound; an odd giddiness overtook her, and she was obliged to clutch at a sapling to support herself; she laughed vacantly, though a little frightened, and looked vaguely towards the summit of the road; but the wagon had already disappeared.  A strange feeling of nausea then overcame her; she spat out the leaves she had been chewing, disgustedly.  But the sensation as quickly passed, and she once more sought the trail and began slowly to follow the tracks of the wagon.  The air blew freshly, the treetops began again to rock over her head, and the incident was forgotten.

Presently she paused; she must have missed the trail, for the wagon tracks had ended abruptly before a large boulder that lay across the mountain trail.  She dipped into the woods again; here there were other wagon tracks that confused her.  It was like her dogged, stupid father to miss the trail; she felt a gleam of malicious satisfaction at his discomfiture.  Sooner or later, he would have to retrace his steps and virtually come back for her!  She took up a position where two rough wheel ruts and tracks intersected each other, one of which must be the missing trail.  She noticed, too, the broader hoof-prints of cattle without the following wheel ruts, and instead of traces, the long smooth trails made by the dragging of logs, and knew by these tokens that she must be near the highway or some woodman’s hut or ranch.  She began to be thirsty, and was glad, presently, when her quick, rustic ear caught the tinkling of water.  Yet it was not so easy to discover, and she was getting footsore and tired again before she found it, some distance away, in a gully coming from a fissure in a dislocated piece of outcrop.  It was beautifully clear, cold, and sparkling, with a slightly sweetish taste, yet unlike the brackish “alkali” of the plains.  It refreshed and soothed her greatly, so much that, reclining against a tree, but where she would be quite visible from the trail, her eyes closed dreamily, and presently she slept.

When she awoke, the shafts of sunlight were striking almost level into her eyes.  She must have slept two hours.  Her father had not returned; she knew the passage of the wagon would have awakened her.  She began to feel strange, but not yet alarmed; it was only the uncertainty that made her uneasy.  Had her father really gone on by some other trail?  Or had he really hurried on and left her, as he said he would?  The thought brought an odd excitement to her rather than any fear.  A sudden sense of freedom, as if some galling chain had dropped from her, sent a singular thrill through her frame.  Yet she felt confused with her independence, not knowing what to do with it, and momentarily dazzled with the possible gift.