Another false step and Sally was glad to awaken to the realization that her second fall had brought her further down the hill. In a quarter of a mile more doubtless she would reach the frozen bank of Half Moon Lake and be able to see the lights of their camp on the farther side, for although the lake was of considerable length it was not more than fifty yards wide. At the foot of the hill Sally found herself in a small ravine, where the ice had formed only a thin layer above the drifting snow. Attempting to cross the ravine she sank to her knees, but managed to flounder out again. In order to console herself she attempted to recall various Camp Fire maxims which might afford her courage or inspiration, but concluded that concentration upon her task left no opportunity for other ideas. On the farther side of the ravine which she did not remember to have crossed earlier in the afternoon there was no gleaming surface of water frozen into the winter landscape. Instantly Sally appreciated that she had lost the trail and had come down the hill at some distant point from Tahawus cabin. Across the lake at any hour of the day or night one could see blue curls of smoke rising from the cabin, or at dusk the lights gleaming from the windows, but now no human habitation was visible. Sally was in a world of complete loneliness. There is no loneliness, no silence so absolute as the forest in winter. Except for the snow birds, all the other birds have departed. Save when they must seek food, the animals keep their own cloisters; there are no leaves to rustle on the trees, only the little crackling noises due to intense cold. How far was she at present from Tahawus cabin or any shelter? An instant Sally stood still. Curiously in the face of actual danger she lost her sense of discomfort and disenchantment and with a serious situation possessed an extraordinary capacity for calm judgment. In an hour the woods would be in darkness. There was no point in evading the issue; she appreciated what was inevitable. Yet she had no thought of surrender, not for the present. With the realization of the situation Sally seemed to feel added strength and faith. When the others arrived at Tahawus cabin, finding that she was not there, a search party would start out at once. If only she had not broken her compass a few days before, as she rarely left home without it, at least she might have managed to walk in the direction of Tahawus cabin and not face the risk of going the opposite way. Notwithstanding the barricade of hills, she could see toward the west that the sun had descended, leaving a faint afterglow of purple and yellow and rose on the dim white peaks.