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about her that she did not see that the afternoon was waning, until the sun was down.

"The Psalmist wondered at the mystery of the heavens, but I marvel at the mysteries of earth," she said. "Tell me, ye rugged rocks, and you, ye waters of the desert, the secret of existence, if you can. Am I alone with Thee, O God? Or are these rough-ribbed rocks, like me, instihct with life?"

"You'd better hurry, young lady, or you'll miss the last trip of the ferry-boat for the night," cried a voice that seemed to come from beneath her feet. Thoroughly frightened, she hastened to retrace her steps. How she regained the river-bank she could never recollect; but when she stood panting at the water's edge, and beheld through the gloaming the last of her father's wagons ascending the opposite steep, it was past the twilight hour, and one by one the stars came out amid the circling blue of the bending sky. The roar of the waters was deafening.

"Can I do anything for "you, miss?"

It was the same voice that had reached her from beneath the rock. She looked up and beheld a tall, sunburned young man, bowing and lifting a broad sombrero, who seemed as much embarrassed over the novel situation as herself.

"I am glad to see the face of a white man, sir. I was frightened half out of my senses till I saw you."

"And are you not frightened now?"

"Yes, a little bit. There are too many Indians stalking about to allow me to feel exactly comfortable. But I shall rely upon you for protection, sir."

"I suppose other trains will be along presently. They will encamp on this side of the river for the night, so you will have company."

"We are away ahead of the other trains, sir. We took a cut-off in the mountains."

"But you are afraid of the Indians?"