grew. It was bogged by springs hidden in ferns and in the little purple and red berries that spurt out their juices to the tread. Once a weka ran with a cry before the toe of Ike’s boot; but, for the rest, in all the mighty length and height of the bush was no sound save the crashing of men through the branches.
“It’s hot ’nuff fur another place ’sides this,” said Mogger, wiping green slime from his eyebrows; “an’ dark ’nuff fur ter lose anybody yer didn’t want ter fin’ agin, too. There’s some folk one cud do wi’ losin’—ef yer cud do it wi’out hurtin’ their feelin’s.”
“It’s never wise to think of another man’s feelings,” said Lou, beating the lawyer tangle aside. “You get underfoot each time you do it—and that is where the heat is bred, Mogger.”
Through the bush-thickness he burst on to the track; and the others following saw him struck out in scarlet, like the demon in a pantomime. Below in the gully of pine and tree fern, a welter of flame gallopped up to snatch at the way that led to Mains, and red tongues lapped the undergrowth, licking round the great trunks that barred them. The splash of raw scarlet was over the men with their startled faces; over the low sky behind the far hill; over the wild tracery of giant trees along the gully-rim. The snarl of it was in the air; fill-
