Like a great entangling web her loose hair impeded her in the brush, and with an encouraging cry to Pierrot she stopped to gather it over her shoulder as he ran past her.

She lost only a moment or two, and then once again was after him.

Fifty yards ahead of her Pierrot gave a warning shout.

Baree had turned.

Almost in the same breath he was tearing over his back trail, directly toward the Willow.