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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Young Forester"

I certainly did not want to catch up with
him, but as there was small chance of that; it caused me no concern.
Shortly after sunset twilight fell, and it was night when I reached the
first pine-trees. Still, as the trail was easily to be seen, I kept on, for
I did not want to camp without water. The forest was very dark, in some
places like a huge black tent, and I had not ridden far when the old fear
of night, the fancy of things out there in the darkness, once more
possessed me. It made me angry. Why could I not have the same confidence
that I had in the daytime? It was impossible. The forest was full of moving
shadows. When the wind came up to roar in the pine-tips it was a relief
because it broke the silence.
I began to doubt whether I could be sure of locating the spring, and I
finally decided to make camp at once. I stopped Hal, and had swung my leg
over the pommel when I saw a faint glimmer of light far ahead. It twinkled
like a star, but was not white and cold enough for a star.
"That's Dick's campfire," I said. "I'll have to stop here. Maybe I'm too
close now."
I pondered the question. The blaze was a long way off, and I concluded I
could risk camping on the spot, provided I did not make a fire. Accordingly
I dismounted, and was searching for a suitable place when I happened to
think that the campfire might not be Dick's, after all.


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