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 and, alighting on the ground, covered the turf with a living carpet of rich green and vivid gold.

To Jolie it seemed that there was nothing to mar this loveliness. Out of this singing, many-coloured wilderness, this green and silver wilderness to which the long, graceful pendants of the Spanish moss imparted a misty beauty never known in England, scarcely a hint of menace came to her. Twice she saw wolves of the small low-country breed slinking along like homeless dogs under the far-spaced trees; and once, glancing down a long glade in the woods, through which trickled a small sluggish stream, she saw a big black bear stand for a moment watching with lowered head, then turn and whisk himself with surprising quickness behind a tree trunk.

The wolves she had already learned to despise, but to her eyes the bear seemed very big. She turned, glanced at Lachlan, perceived that he, too, had seen the animal. But he only smiled and made some light remark about Bruin's nimbleness in getting out of sight; and the sense of danger which had come to her momentarily vanished, and she gave herself again to silent and bemused enjoyment of the changing scene about her.

So, mile after mile, she rode in silence, Lachlan at her side or just behind her, the pack train following well in the rear, Almayne, Jock and Meg Pearson, and Mr. O'Sullivan riding at its head.

An hour before sunset, when the western sky flamed beyond the tree trunks, they came to a long savan-