The curve of the mountain was so perfect that it seemed to reach down a long arm on either side and grasp the cliffs.  The redwoods on its crown and upper slopes were a mass of rigid shadows, the points, only, sharply etched on the night sky.  They might have been a wall about an undiscovered country.

“Come,” cried Rotscheff, “we are ready to start.”  And Estenega sprang to his horse.

“I don’t envy you,” said the Princess Helene from the veranda, her silveren head barely visible above the furs which enveloped her.  “I prefer the fire.”

“You are warmly clad?” asked Estenega of Chonita.  “But you have the blood of the South in your veins.”

They climbed the steep road between the levels, slowly, the women chattering and asking questions, the men explaining and advising.  Estenega and Chonita having much to say, said nothing.

A cold volume of air, the muffled roar of a mountain torrent, rushed out of the forest, startling with the suddenness of its impact.  Once a panther uttered its human cry.

They entered the forest.  It was so dark here that the horses wandered from the trail and into the brush again and again.  Conversation ceased; except for the muffled footfalls of the horses and the speech of the waters there was no sound.  Chonita had never known a stillness so profound; the giant trees crowding together seemed to resent intrusion, to menace an eternal silence.  She moved her horse close to Estenega’s and he took her hand.  Occasionally there was an opening, a well of blackness, for the moon had not yet come to the forest.

They reached the summit, and descended.  Half-way down the mountain they rode into a farm in a valley formed by one of the many basins.

The Indians were waiting, and killed a bullock at once, placing the carcass in a conspicuous place.  Then all retired to the shade of the trees.  In less than a half-hour a bear came prowling out of the forest and began upon the meal so considerately provided for him.  When his attention was fully engaged, Rotscheff and the officers, mounted, dashed down upon him, swinging their lassos.  The bear showed fight and stood his ground, but this was an occasion when the bear always got the worst of it.  One lasso caught his neck, another his hind foot, and he was speedily strained and strangled to death.  No sooner was he despatched than another appeared, then another, and the sport grew very exciting, absorbing the attention of the women as well as the energies of the men.

Estenega lifted Chonita from her horse.  “Let us walk,” he said.  “They will not miss us.  A few yards farther, and you will be on my territory.  I want you there.”

She made no protest, and they entered the forest.  The moon shone down through the lofty redwoods that seemed to scrape its crystal; the monotone of the distant sea blended with the faint roar of the tree-tops.  The vast gloomy aisles were unbroken by other sound.