The big bay horse covered the ground, with long, deer-like bounds that swiftly lessened the distance. Though laboring heavily—for full fifteen miles had been traversed since leaving the bivouac, in addition to a long day’s travel—the noble brute did not falter. He would continue his stride until his great heart burst, as Ned well knew. But this was no time to consider the welfare of a horse, when the safety, perhaps the life of a dear friend hung in the balance. With eagerly straining gaze, the young hunter gained and rounded the point of timber. A cry of wonder broke from his dry lips, and he abruptly drew rein. Not a living soul was to be seen, though the prairie stretched out before him, smooth and level almost as a ballroom floor. Where could his friend have gone? Surely not straight on, across that tract? Impossible—it was fully ten miles, if an inch. Around the _motte_? No—for the trail led straight forward, as a glance showed him. Then a sudden cry broke from Campbell’s lips, and he cast a rapid glance around. He saw that the moonlight had deceived him—that he was at least a mile further west than he had believed. All was plain to him now—the mystery was a mystery no longer. “The _baranca_—they are there—it must be so! But how—my God! can that woman have been a _spirit_?” The ranger reeled in his saddle. The strange events of that night had unmanned him, and wild fancies took possession of his brain. He half believed that this strange rider was nothing but a delusion—a phantom who had lured his young friend on to his death, by a fall down the _baranca_ that, though still invisible, he well knew lay before him at only a few yards’ distance. His mind a strange medley, Campbell urged his horse forward, and in half a dozen more bounds, stood upon the verge of the _baranca_; a deep, narrow ravine, with almost perpendicular sides, the bottom thickly strewn with jagged bowlders of different sizes. Though this ravine began less than a mile to the south, Ned knew that it ran north for ten times that distance, preserving the same general direction, though winding and tortuous. Still sitting his horse he peered eagerly down into the _baranca_. The full moon behind him only lighted up a portion of the further side. The bottom was wrapped in darkness so deep that from where he stood, the eye could not penetrate it. A strange awe was upon the young ranger. All that was superstitious in his nature was now fully awakened. It seemed more than an adventure with common flesh and blood. Twice his lips parted to utter his friend’s name, and as often he refrained, why, he could not himself tell. He peered down into the darkness, his horse slowly trotting along the escarpment, toward the north. Suddenly Campbell gave vent to a cry. Close before him seemed a narrow pathway leading down into the ravine.