He shot a buck, which leaped spasmodically away, trying to follow the herd, and fell at the edge of the glade.

Slone cut out a haunch, and then, catching the horses, he returned to camp, where he packed and saddled, and at once rode out on the dim trail.
The wildness of the country he was entering was evident in the fact that as he passed the glade where he had shot the deer a few minutes before, there were coyotes quarreling over the carcass.
Stone could see ahead and on each side several hundred yards, and presently he ascertained that the forest floor was not so level as he had supposed.

He had entered a valley or was traversing a wide, gently sloping pass.

He went through thickets of juniper, and had to go around clumps of quaking aspen.

The pines grew larger and farther apart.
Cedars and pinyons had been left behind, and he had met with no silver spruces after leaving camp.