“I remember it after a fashion, but, Bettina dear, please don’t ask me to understand literary subtleties. You know there is no one in the world who cares less than I for books, although to my shame I confess it, but I don’t believe I ever read or studied voluntarily save when I thought it my duty. Every interest with me is an outdoor interest and I confess I have never loved any place so well as these Adirondack forests. Somewhere in my past I must have had an Indian ancestor, not a squaw, but a great chief who roamed these hills, hunting and fishing, sleeping and living outdoors when it was possible, because I feel at present as if I never wished to do anything else, except perhaps see my friends and family now and then. But enough of conversation, Bettina, woodsmen or woodswomen we have been told were a silent race and we must learn the law of the woods. What I really would like to know is in what direction we should travel to reach camp in the shortest length of time. We have been following a deer trail I believe that has led us nowhere. However, we cannot be many miles out of the way. We must move now toward the west, and, Bettina, let’s not separate again, you know you have no sense of direction once you are more than a mile away from camp.” Unable to dispute this assertion, Bettina Graham, who was beginning to grow tired while her companion appeared as fresh as when they set out, followed obediently beside her. A half hour longer they walked, Gill rarely hesitating, although keeping her compass in her hand and glancing at it occasionally, when suddenly both girls stopped short. They were not alone in this portion of the woods. Not far off some one else was moving, finding the way slowly and uncertainly. Mary Gilchrist glanced at her rifle, which she carried with skill and assurance. “I cannot imagine who can be in the woods at so late an hour. I must try and find out.” Placing her fingers on her lips the girl uttered a shrill, clear call. Silence. A moment later she repeated the call. Then both girls heard a voice shouting in a tone of mingled terror and relief. “I have lost my path. Won’t some one come and find me? I can never manage to reach you.” The girls exchanged glances. “A lost knight in the dark forest, Bettina! Well, these are the days when women are the modern crusaders, so let us to the rescue!” Not many minutes after, the two girls came upon a young man of about twenty lying gracefully outstretched on the ground upon a fragrant bed of balsam, with an open book in his hands. As Bettina and Mary drew near he arose. “I was resting,” he explained, “knowing that you would have less difficulty in discovering me if I remained quiet in one spot.” His manner was so self-possessed and self-assured that Bettina smiled, observing, however, that Gill appeared annoyed.