The ride was long; it led up and down hills, and through a lengthy stretch of gloomy forest.
Sometimes the drivers walked the horses up a steep climb and again raced them along a level bottom.

Making a turn in the road they saw a bright light in the distance which marked their destination.

In five minutes the horses dashed into a wide clearing.

An immense log fire burned in front of a two-story structure.

Streams of light poured from the small windows; the squeaking of fiddles, the shuffling of many feet, and gay laughter came through the open door.
The steaming horses were unhitched, covered carefully with robes and led into sheltered places, while the merry party disappeared into the house.
The occasion was the celebration of the birthday of old Dan Watkins' daughter.