She had no means of making a fire, had no covering, no food.

Simply a lost unit of one of the many species inhabiting the earth, surviving each as it may, she cowered alone and helpless in the wilderness.
The hush of the evening came.

The pines were silent.

There was only one little faint sound above her--in some tree, she thought.

It was made by a worm boring under the bark, seeking place for the larvae which presently it would leave, in order that its species might endure.
A small sound, of no great carrying power..