In a Hollow of the Hills | Page 4

sharply. It
was followed by the distant sea-like roaring of the mountain-side.
"That's a little more like it!" said the first speaker joyfully. "Another
blow like that and we're all right. And look! there's a lightenin' up over
the trail we came by."
There was indeed a faint glow in that direction, like the first suffusion

of dawn, permitting the huge shoulder of the mountain along whose
flanks they had been journeying to be distinctly seen. The sodden
breath of the stirred forest depths was slightly tainted with an acrid
fume.
"That's the match you threw away two hours ago," said the pleasant
voice deliberately. "It's caught the dry brush in the trail round the
bend."
"Anyhow, it's given us our bearings, boys," said the first speaker, with
satisfied accents. "We're all right now; and the wind's lifting the sky
ahead there. Forward now, all together, and let's get out of this
hell-hole while we can!"
It was so much lighter that the bulk of each horseman could be seen as
they moved forward together. But there was no thinning of the
obscurity on either side of them. Nevertheless the profile of the
horseman with the pleasant voice seemed to be occasionally turned
backward, and he suddenly checked his horse.
"There's the window again!" he said. "Look! There--it's gone again."
"Let it go and be d--d!" returned the leader. "Come on."
They spurred forward in silence. It was not long before the wayside
trees began to dimly show spaces between them, and the ferns to give
way to lower, thick-set shrubs, which in turn yielded to a velvety moss,
with long quiet intervals of netted and tangled grasses. The regular fall
of the horses' feet became a mere rhythmic throbbing. Then suddenly a
single hoof rang out sharply on stone, and the first speaker reined in
slightly.
"Thank the Lord we're on the ridge now! and the rest is easy. Tell you
what, though, boys, now we're all right, I don't mind saying that I didn't
take no stock in that blamed corpse light down there. If there ever was a
will-o'-the-wisp on a square up mountain, that was one. It wasn't no
window! Some of ye thought ye saw a face too--eh?"

"Yes, and a rather pretty one," said the pleasant voice meditatively.
"That's the way they'd build that sort of thing, of course. It's lucky ye
had to satisfy yourself with looking. Gosh! I feel creepy yet, thinking of
it! What are ye looking back for now like Lot's wife? Blamed if I don't
think that face bewitched ye."
"I was only thinking about that fire you started," returned the other
quietly. "I don't see it now."
"Well--if you did?"
"I was wondering whether it could reach that hollow."
"I reckon that hollow could take care of any casual nat'rel fire that came
boomin' along, and go two better every time! Why, I don't believe there
was any fire; it was all a piece of that infernal ignis fatuus
phantasmagoriana that was played upon us down there!"
With the laugh that followed they started forward again, relapsing into
the silence of tired men at the end of a long journey. Even their few
remarks were interjectional, or reminiscent of topics whose freshness
had been exhausted with the day. The gaining light which seemed to
come from the ground about them rather than from the still, overcast
sky above, defined their individuality more distinctly. The man who
had first spoken, and who seemed to be their leader, wore the virgin
unshaven beard, mustache, and flowing hair of the Californian pioneer,
and might have been the eldest; the second speaker was close shaven,
thin, and energetic; the third, with the pleasant voice, in height,
litheness, and suppleness of figure appeared to be the youngest of the
party. The trail had now become a grayish streak along the level
table-land they were following, which also had the singular effect of
appearing lighter than the surrounding landscape, yet of plunging into
utter darkness on either side of its precipitous walls. Nevertheless, at
the end of an hour the leader rose in his stirrups with a sigh of
satisfaction.
"There's the light in Collinson's Mill! There's nothing gaudy and

spectacular about that, boys, eh? No, sir! it's a square, honest beacon
that a man can steer by. We'll be there in twenty minutes." He was
pointing into the darkness below the already descending trail. Only a
pioneer's eye could have detected the few pin-pricks of light in the
impenetrable distance, and it was a signal proof of his leadership that
the others accepted it without seeing it. "It's just ten o'clock," he
continued, holding a huge silver watch to his eye; "we've wasted an
hour on those blamed spooks yonder!"
"We weren't off the trail more