It is an open cleared space, that mound beneath the pine-tree; a few low shrubs and seedling pines, with the slender waving branches of the late-flowering pearly tinted asters, the elegant fringed gentian, with open bells of azure blue, the last and loveliest of the fall flowers and winter-greens, brighten the ground with wreaths of shining leaves and red berries.
Louis is on the alert, though as yet he sees nothing.

It is not a full free note of welcome, that Wolfe gives; there is something uneasy and half angry in his tone.

Yet it is not fierce, like the bark of angry defiance he gives, when wolf, or bear, or wolverine is near.
Louis steps forward from the shadow of the pine branches, to the edge of the inclined plane in the foreground.

The slow tread of approaching steps is now distinctly heard advancing--it may be a deer.

Two figures approach, and Louis moves a little, within the shadow again.