And, indeed, he had
need to take his courage in both hands, and force it to stand by him;
for he had not gone far when, though the forest still continued dense,
he became aware that he was beginning a steep ascent. Was the trail
going to lead him up a mountain-side? The way grew yet more rugged.
Every step was a misery. Jagged edges of rock and never-ending roots
seemed to brand themselves with burning friction upon his feet, through
their soft buckskin covering. He tried to hearten himself into a belief
that he must soon reach some mountain camp or settlement.
But a bleak horror threw a gray shade upon his face as his staring eyes
saw that the trail was growing fainter--fainter--fainter. At the foot of
a steep crag, where a mass of earth, stones, and dead spruce-trees
showed that there had lately been a landslide on the mountain above, he
lost it altogether. It had led him to a pile of rubbish.
CHAPTER VII.
A FOREST GUIDE-POST.
At the foot of that crag Dol stood still, while a great shiver crept
from his neck up the back of his head, stirring his hair.
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