luminous eyes I read an unfathomable mystery.
The mist had not cleared, for it was soon after dawn when we again moved along, hungry, chill, and yet hopeful. At a spring we obtained some water, and then, in silent procession, pressed forward in search of the rough track of the wood-cutters.
Elma's torn shoe gave her considerable trouble, and noticing her limping, I induced her to sit down while I took it off, hoping to be able to mend it, but, having unlaced it, I saw that upon her stocking was a large patch of congealed blood, where her foot itself had also been cut.
Yet she had never complained, knowing too well the imminent peril of re-capture.
I managed to beat the nails of the shoo with a stone, so that its sole should not be lost, and she readjusted it, allowing me to lace it up for her and smiling the while.
Forward we trudged, ever forward, across that enormous forest where the myriad tree-trunks presented the same dismal scene everywhere, a forest untrodden save by those wild, half-savage lumber-men who cut down the trees, lopped off their branches, branded them, and then threw them into the river to float down to the sea.
Throughout that dull grey day we marched onward, faint with hunger, yet suffering but little pain, for the first pangs were now past, and were succeeded by a slight light-headedness. My only fear was that we should be compelled to spend another night without shelter, and what its effect
