The girl studied the moon then, and saw by the way it was setting that after all they were going in the right general direction.

That gave a little comfort until she made herself believe that in some way she might have made a mistake and gone the wrong way from the graves, and so be coming up to the cabin after all.
It was a terrible night.

Every step of the way some new horror was presented to her imagination.

Once she had to cross a wild little stream, rocky and uncertain in its bed, with slippery, precipitous banks; and twice in climbing a steep incline she came sharp upon sheer precipices down into a rocky gorge, where the moonlight seemed repelled by dark, bristling evergreen trees growing half-way up the sides.

She could hear the rush and clamor of a tumbling mountain stream in the depths below.
Once she fancied she heard a distant shot, and the horse pricked up his ears, and went forward excitedly.
But at last the dawn contended with the night, and in the east a faint pink flush crept up.