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 Maxim’s leadership. Perhaps she thought it was for the sake of adventure, for Maxim made it plain that the second line of march was the more perilous one.

Once again the horns bellowed and the two groups separated. The huntsmen advanced singly and in pairs, sometimes coming together in groups and at times separating completely from each other, seeking outlets and pathways, for to proceed entirely in groups was impossible. They were now nearing the top of the hill whose rocky summit was barren of all growth. Just below the summit barring their path was a piled-up wall of boulders, fallen trees and broken branches. To get past this was the hardest and most hazardous part of their journey upwards. In one place the debris was piled as high as a tower.

Logs, branches, twigs, rocks and tangled masses of leaves formed the natural wall of a fortress. Maxim crept along the ledge of the abysmal gorge, catching hold here and there of the moss and infrequent growth among the rocks, seeking a pass which would lead them into the fortified, woodland fastness. But the boyars, who were not accustomed to such inconvenient and death-defying paths, continued on along the wall of the rampart hoping to find some break in it.

Peace-Renown stopped and hesitated as if something held her near Maxim. Her bright, intelligent eyes surveyed the towering mass, searching for even the smallest opening which might permit a passage through it. In a moment she was audaciously scaling the barrier of sharp rocks and timber. Standing at its top, she looked around her imperiously. The boyars were now some distance away, Maxim was not in sight and before her there stretched an utterly impassable confusion of rocks, branches, twigs, tangled vines and uprooted trees. But wait! A short distance away she noticed a giant pine log spread bridge-wise over the impassable area, seemingly presenting a safe way to reach the summit.

Without further reflection upon the advisability of her