"I suppose if I'd been kicked and smashed and killed you'd laugh," she said. And then she melted. "Oh, my pretty riding-suit! What a mess! I must be a sight. . . . Nell, Irode that wild pony -- the sun-of-a-gun! I rode him! That's enough for me. YOU try it. Laugh all you want. It was funny.
But if you want to square yourself with me, help me clean my clothes."Late in the night Helen heard Dale sternly calling Pedro.
She felt some little alarm. However, nothing happened, and she soon went to sleep again. At the morning meal Dale explained.
"Pedro an' Tom were uneasy last night. I think there are lions workin' over the ridge somewhere. I heard one scream.""Scream?" inquired Bo, with interest.
"Yes, an' if you ever hear a lion scream you will think it a woman in mortal agony. The cougar cry, as Roy calls it, is the wildest to be heard in the woods. A wolf howls. He is sad. hungry, and wild. But a cougar seems human an' dyin' an' wild. We'll saddle up an' ride over there. Maybe Pedro will tree a lion. Bo, if he does will you shoot it?""Sure," replied Bo, with her mouth full of biscuit.
That was how they came to take a long, slow, steep ride under cover of dense spruce. Helen liked the ride after they got on the heights. But they did not get to any point where she could indulge in her pleasure of gazing afar over the ranges. Dale led up and down, and finally mostly down, until they came out within sight of sparser wooded ridges with parks lying below and streams shining in the sun.
More than once Pedro had to be harshly called by Dale. The hound scented game.
"Here's an old kill," said Dale, halting to point at some bleached bones scattered under a spruce. Tufts of grayish-white hair lay strewn around.
"What was it?" asked Bo.
"Deer, of course. Killed there an' eaten by a lion. Sometime last fall. See, even the skull is split. But I could not say that the lion did it."Helen shuddered. She thought of the tame deer down at Dale's camp. How beautiful and graceful, and responsive to kindness!
They rode out of the woods into a grassy swale with rocks and clumps of some green bushes bordering it. Here Pedro barked, the first time Helen had heard him. The hair on his neck bristled, and it required stern calls from Dale to hold him in. Dale dismounted.
"Hyar, Pede, you get back," he ordered. "I'll let you go presently. . . . Girls, you're goin' to see somethin'. But stay on your horses."Dale, with the hound tense and bristling beside him, strode here and there at the edge of the swale. Presently he halted on a slight elevation and beckoned for the girls to ride over.
"Here, see where the grass is pressed down all nice an' round," he said, pointing. "A lion made that. He sneaked there, watchin' for deer. That was done this mornin'. Come on, now. Let's see if we can trail him."Dale stooped now, studying the grass, and holding Pedro.
Suddenly he straightened up with a flash in his gray eyes.
"Here's where he jumped."
But Helen could not see any reason why Dale should say that.
The man of the forest took a long stride then another.
"An' here's where that lion lit on the back of the deer. It was a big jump. See the sharp hoof tracks of the deer." Dale pressed aside tall grass to show dark, rough, fresh tracks of a deer, evidently made by violent action.
"Come on," called Dale, walking swiftly. "You're sure goin' to see somethin' now. . . . Here's where the deer bounded, carryin' the lion.""What!" exclaimed Bo, incredulously.
"The deer was runnin' here with the lion on his back. I'll prove it to you. Come on, now. Pedro, you stay with me.
Girls, it's a fresh trail." Dale walked along, leading his horse, and occasionally he pointed down into the grass.
"There! See that! That's hair."
Helen did see some tufts of grayish hair scattered on the ground, and she believed she saw little, dark separations in the grass, where an animal had recently passed. All at once Dale halted. When Helen reached him Bo was already there and they were gazing down at a wide, flattened space in the grass. Even Helen's inexperienced eyes could make out evidences of a struggle. Tufts of gray-white hair lay upon the crushed grass. Helen did not need to see any more, but Dale silently pointed to a patch of blood. Then he spoke:
"The lion brought the deer down here an' killed him.
Probably broke his neck. That deer ran a hundred yards with the lion. See, here's the trail left where the lion dragged the deer off."A well-defined path showed across the swale.
"Girls, you'll see that deer pretty quick," declared Dale, starting forward. "This work has just been done. Only a few minutes ago.""How can you tell?" queried Bo.
"Look! See that grass. It has been bent down by the deer bein' dragged over it. Now it's springin' up."Dale's next stop was on the other side of the swale, under a spruce with low, spreading branches. The look of Pedro quickened Helen's pulse. He was wild to give chase.
Fearfully Helen looked where Dale pointed, expecting to see the lion. But she saw instead a deer lying prostrate with tongue out and sightless eyes and bloody hair.
"Girls, that lion heard us an' left. He's not far," said Dale, as he stooped to lift the head of the deer. "Warm!
Neck broken. See the lion's teeth an' claw marks. . . . It's a doe. Look here. Don't be squeamish, girls. This is only an hourly incident of everyday life in the forest. See where the lion has rolled the skin down as neat as I could do it, an' he'd just begun to bite in there when he heard us.""What murderous work, The sight sickens me!" exclaimed Helen.
"It is nature," said Dale, simply.
"Let's kill the lion," added Bo.
For answer Dale took a quick turn at their saddle-girths, and then, mounting, he called to the hound. "Hunt him up, Pedro."Like a shot the hound was off.
"Ride in my tracks an' keep close to me," called Dale, as he wheeled his horse.
"We're off!" squealed Bo, in wild delight, and she made her mount plunge.