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Updated: May 9, 2025
"He is her lover," said Kitty; and all the wilderness before her was no lonelier than her heart. Swift, intent, Judith traced Kitty’s footprints. They followed the game trail, the one she herself had taken earlier in the day. She traced them back through the pine wood about a hundred rods, and then the trail-marks grew confused.
"But think," pleaded Judith; "if you don’t come it will take me longer to search the trail-marks. You could show me just where the horses ran—" Kitty’s eyes were still on the ground. She did not lift them, and Judith, realizing that further appeal was but a waste of time, turned and ran swiftly down the trail.
They did not think it necessary to keep watch, but when they awoke in the morning they found the baggage-horses had been driven off, and their packs stolen. The horses they had been riding on were just as they had left them over night. The trail-marks around the camp were too numerous to make anything out of them.
"But they need the spelling of cat so much more than you need to understand trail-marks. Why don’t you try a little strategy with them? Perhaps a bribe, even? It seems to me I remember something in history about the part played in colonization by the bright-colored bead." Sundry wood-cuts from a long-forgotten primer history of the United States came back to Mary.
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