The ground was covered with a soft bed of pine needles, brown and fragrant.

In her hurry she pricked her ungloved hand on a sharp pine cone and drew the blood.

She sucked the tiny wound.

"Shore I'm wonderin' if that's a bad omen," she muttered, darkly thoughtful.

Then she resumed her sinuous approach to the edge of the thicket, and presently reached it.
Ellen lay flat a moment to recover her breath, then raised herself on her elbows.