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 mysterious rustlings, heard or seemed to hear mysterious, furtive footfalls. For a time she saw no creature of any kind, but somehow she knew that all around her was life. Suddenly, to the right and seemingly near at hand, sounded a loud snort, deep-throated, raucous, menacing. Startled, she turned to Lachlan, riding just behind her.

"Buffalo," he whispered. "There are some in these brakes, though the big herds are farther inland."

He listened a moment, his black eyes sparkling. The snorting became a mighty bellow, and Jolie heard hoof-beats and the noise of a heavy body galloping over dead cane leaves.

Lachlan smiled. "There must be another path in there," he said, "running close to this one. A buffalo bull met something in the path—a bear, perhaps, or a wolf—and ordered it out of his way."

The dimness, those eerie rustlings of unseen feet, worked on Jolie's nerves. She had not ridden fifty yards when a piercing scream, again on her right and close at hand, drove the blood from her cheeks. This time it was Almayne who enlightened her. Turning in his saddle, he smiled at her.

"Don't be frightened, Mistress," he said in a low voice, "though I don't wonder if you are. A fox can yell worse than a panther. I think something caught that fellow."

As they advanced, the canes grew larger. They were as tall as small trees now, Jolie thought, although she could not see their tops. At frequent intervals the