A loose fragment of granite on which she had unwittingly placed her foot rolled from under her; unable to regain her balance she fell forwards, and was precipitated through the bushes into the ravine below, conscious only of unspeakable terror and an agonising pain in one of her ancles, which rendered her quite powerless.

The noise of the stones she had dislodged in her fall and her piteous cries, brought Louis and Hector to her side, and they bore her in their arms to the hut of boughs and laid her down upon her bed of leaves and grass and young pine boughs.

When Catharine was able to speak, she related to Louis and Hector the cause of her fright.

She was sure it must have been a wolf by his sharp teeth, long jaws, and grisly coat.

The last glance she had had of him had filled her with terror, he was standing on a fallen tree with his eyes fixed upon her--she could tell them no more that happened, she never felt the ground she was on, so great was her fright.
Hector was half disposed to scold his sister for rambling over the hills alone, but Louis was full of tender compassion for _la belle cousine_, and would not suffer her to be chidden.