This was something amazing, something beyond their experience, but the excitement of Shepard seemed to have passed.

His face had become a mask once more, and he was waiting with certainty.
Dick's sharp ear caught the sound of a light footstep approaching them, evidently coming straight and with confidence.

He realized that until now he had not really believed, despite the footprints, despite everything, that a woman was on the mountain.

But he knew at last.
He even heard the swish of her skirts once or twice against the bushes.
Then she came through the dwarfed cedars, stepping boldly, and stood before them.
The stranger stood full in the moonlight, and Dick saw her very clearly.
She was thin, small and elderly, clothed in a gray riding suit, and with a sort of small gray turban on her head.

But despite her smallness and thinness and years there was nothing insignificant in her appearance.
As she stood there looking at them, she showed a pair of the brightest and most intelligent eyes that Dick had ever seen.