Do you think you dare attempt it?"
"Certainly," she answered; and before he could reach her she was
half-way down the descent.
"Madge!" he cried, in alarm.
"Oh, don't worry," she said; "I was over worse places in the West."
"Well, what can't she do!" he exclaimed, as she stood beside him in
the path.
"I can't give up my own way very easily," she replied. "You have found
that out."
"That don't trouble me in the least. I don't wish you to give up your
own way. It's warm down here, and our walk won't be so breezy as if we
had followed the ridge."
"We will take it leisurely and have a rest by and by."
The gorge grew narrower and wilder. They passed an immense tree, under
which Indians may have bivouacked, and in some storm long past the
lightning had plowed its way from the topmost branch to its gnarled
roots.
At last the path crossed a little rill that tinkled with a faint
murmur among the stones, making a limpid pool here and there. Immense
bowlders, draped with varied-hued mosses and lichens, were scattered
about, where in ages past the melting glacier had left them. The trees
that densely shaded the place seemed primeval in their age, loftiness,
and shaggy girth.
"Oh, what a deliciously cool and lovely spot!" cried Madge, throwing
down her alpenstock.
Pages:
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477