‘There!’ shouted Deva suddenly, and pointed to a place where there was an overhang — a cliff that leaned over a turbulent stream and a ledge halfway up and out of reach of its fury. They edged their way over a crumbling scree to reach it, clinging to saplings, not letting one go before they had another in their grasp. At one time Deva lost her grip and her footing and slid some way before the huge old stump of a tree halted her. The black leaves on the forest floor were dangerously slippery now and it was some time before, bedraggled and scratched and out of breath, she reached Isar’s side again, and they were both comparatively safe and dry on the ledge.
She was shivering and he put his arm around her as they sat close together, watching the rain pouring into the forest, listening to the
