The broad moonlight had already flooded the recesses of the glen with light, and all looked fresh and lovely in the dew, which glittered on tree and leaf, on herb and flower. Catharine, who, though weary with her fatiguing wanderings, could not sleep, left the little hut of boughs which her companions had put up near the granite rock in the valley for her accommodation, and ascended the western bank, where the last jutting spur of its steep side formed a lofty clifflike promontory, at the extreme verge of which the roots of one tall spreading oak formed a most inviting seat, from whence the traveller looked down into a level track, which stretched away to the edge of the lake. This flat had been the estuary of the mountain stream, which had once rushed down between the hills, forming a narrow gorge; but now, all was changed; the water had ceased to flow, the granite bed was overgrown, and carpeted with deer-grass and flowers of many hues, wild fruits and bushes, below; while majestic oaks and pines towered above. A sea of glittering foliage lay beneath Catharine’s feet; in the distance the eye of the young girl rested on a belt of shining waters, which girt in the shores like a silver zone; beyond, yet more remote to the northward, stretched the illimitable forest.
Never had Catharine looked upon a scene so still or so fair to the eye; a holy calm seemed to shed its influence over her young mind, and peaceful tears stole down her cheeks. Not a sound was there abroad, scarcely a leaf stirred; she could have stayed for hours there gazing on the calm beauty of nature, and communing with her own heart, when suddenly a stirring rustling sound caught her car; it came from a hollow channel on one side of the promontory, which was thickly overgrown with the shrubby dogwood, wild roses and bilberry bushes. Imagine the terror which seized the poor girl, on perceiving a grisly beast breaking through the covert of the bushes. With a scream and a bound, which the most deadly fear alone could have inspired, Catharine sprung from the supporting trunk of the oak, dashed, down the precipitous side of the ravine; now clinging to the bending sprays of the flexile dogwood--now to some fragile birch or poplar--now trusting to the yielding heads of the sweet-scented _ceanothus_, or filling her hands with sharp thorns from the roses that clothed the bank; flowers, grass, all were alike clutched at in her rapid and fearful descent. A loose fragment of granite on which she had unwittingly placed her foot rolled from under her; unable to regain her balance she fell forwards, and was precipitated through the bushes into the ravine below, conscious only of unspeakable terror and an agonising pain in one of her ancles, which rendered her quite powerless. The noise of the stones she had dislodged in her fall and her piteous cries, brought Louis and Hector to her side, and they bore her in their arms to the hut of boughs and laid her down upon her bed of leaves and grass and young pine boughs. When Catharine was able to speak, she related to Louis and Hector the cause of her fright. She was sure it must have been a wolf by his sharp teeth, long jaws, and grisly coat. The last glance she had had of him had filled her with terror, he was standing on a fallen tree with his eyes fixed upon her--she could tell them no more that happened, she never felt the ground she was on, so great was her fright.