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Fro words leaped "We're lost, Moya We're going to die"

"Nonsense Don't be a goosie," her downright friend answered sharply

"But--what shall we do?"

Scudding clouds had leaped across the sky and wiped out the last narrow line of sunlight along the eastern horizon Everyto it

"We must find the trail," Moya replied

"And if we don't?"

"But we shall," the Irish girl assured with a finality that lacked conviction "You wait here Don'tto ride round you at a little distance There ave her pony the quirt and cantered off Swiftly she circled, but before she had co heavily, had covered the ground and obliterated any path there ht be With a heavy heart she started to return to her friend

Owing both to the lie of the ground and the increasing density she could not see Joyce Thrice she called before a faint answer reached her ears Moya rode toward the voice, stopping now and again to call and wait for a reply Her horizon was now just beyond the nose of her pony, so that it was not until they were only a few yards apart that she sao Step and its rider Both broncho and girl were sheeted with snow

"Oh, I thought you were gone I thought you were never co," Joyce reproached in a wail of despair "Did you find the road?"

"No, but I've thought of so They say horses will find their oay home if you let them Loosen the reins, dear"

Moya spoke with a business-like cheerfulness meant to deceive her friend She knew it must be her part to lead Joyce was as soft and about as competent as a kitten to face a crisis like this She was a creature all curves and di with the sunshine of life like the wavelets of a glassy sea But there was in her an instinctive shrinking from all pain and harshness When her little world refused to smile, as very rarely it did for her, she shut her eyes, stopped her ears, and pouted Against the implacable condition that confronted them now she could only whimper her despair

They waited with loose reins for the ponies totheir vision to a space within reach of their outstretched ar words of her friend could be heard in the shriek of the wind The ponies, feeling themselves free, stirred restlessly Moya clucked to her roan and patted his neck encouragingly