This seemed due to no cloud or mist, but rather to a fading of the sun itself.

The occasional flurry of wings overhead, the whirring of larger birds in the cover, and a frequent rustling in the undergrowth, as of the passage of some stealthy animal, began equally to attract her attention.

It was so different from the habitual silence of these sedate solitudes.

Kate had no vague fear of wild beasts; she had been long enough a mountaineer to understand the general immunity enjoyed by the unmolesting wayfarer, and kept her way undismayed.

She was descending an abrupt trail when she was stopped by a sudden crash in the bushes.