mourning, all the well-loved forms of 

 the forest shrivelled and twisted, 

 draped in leaden greys and deepest 

 black. What pain, what sorrow, 

 what beauty spoiled, what needless 

 waste, what visions of the under- 

 world laid bare! It might have been 

 the enchanted circle that always in 

 Fairyland protects the Beauty and 

 Delight beyond. 



To cross it was like one of the 

 labours of Hercules, but there was 

 no way around; either forward, or 

 retreat. "Cap'n," who was leading, 

 had something of Napoleon in him, 

 and this was evidently not his Mos- 

 cow. So into this havoc where the 

 Fire King had passed but had not 

 yet wholly given up his reign, we, 

 and the entire pack-train, plunged. 

 The horses were kept on a sharp trot, 

 for the ground was still scorching 

 hot in places. Each member of the 

 party, Sally and myself included, 

 took two or three pack horses to 

 drive ahead to keep them "pushed 

 along " better. The trail was nearly 

 obliterated ; our course wound in and 

 out trying to avoid obstacles, old 

 and new. Suddenly the horse before 



