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Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn, 1857-1948

"The Valiant Runaways"

But its outlook
told them nothing. Behind rose other peaks, below was the dense primeval
forest, rising and falling on other slopes. There was no glimpse of
valley anywhere. The sky was heavy with the grey lurid clouds of
concentrated storm.
"We will eat," said Roldan, briefly; "but not too much."
They tethered the mustangs that the beasts might eat of the abundant
grass, and consumed a small quantity of their store. Then they stretched
at full length on the ground to rest their weary bodies.
"Let us stay here the night," said Adan, with a cavernous yawn.
"It is hardly darker by night than by day in the forest, but perhaps it
is well to rest."
"I am one ache, no more," murmured Adan, and went to sleep.
Roldan pillowed his head on his arm and for once followed lead. He awoke
suddenly, his face wet and stinging. White stars were whirling, the
ground was white, the forest was half obliterated.
He shook Adan and dragged him to his feet.
"We must get into the redwoods at once," he said. "We shall be buried
here."
Adan gasped but cinched his saddle; the boys sprang upon the now
tractable mustangs and plunged into the forest below.


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