little food that I had brought with me in the bag, for now I must

gather up my strength to meet the ghosts, if ghosts there were. Then I

rose and plunged into the forest. The trees were great that grow

there, stranger, and their leaves are so think that in certain places

the light is as that of night when the moon is young. Still, I wended

on, often losing my path. But from time to time between the tops of

the trees I saw the figure of the grey stone woman who sits on the top

of Ghost Mountain, and shaped my course towards her knees. My heart