His rueful apology to the girls for missing brought a merry laugh from Bo.
“Not for worlds would I have had you kill that beautiful deer!” she exclaimed.
“We won't have venison steak off him, that's certain,” remarked Dale, dryly. “An' maybe none off any deer, if Roy does the shootin'.”
They resumed travel, sheering off to the right and keeping to the edge of the intersecting canuon. At length they rode down to the bottom, where a tiny brook babbled through willows, and they followed this for a mile or so down to where it flowed into the larger stream. A dim trail overgrown with grass showed at this point.
“Here's where we part,” said Dale. “You'll beat me into my camp, but I'll get there sometime after dark.”
“Hey, Milt, I forgot about thet darned pet cougar of yours an' the rest of your menagerie. Reckon they won't scare the girls? Especially old Tom?”
“You won't see Tom till I get home,” replied Dale.
Dale nodded to the girls, and, turning his horse, he drove the pack-train before him up the open space between the stream and the wooded slope.
Roy stepped off his horse with that single action which appeared such a feat to Helen.
“Guess I'd better cinch up,” he said, as he threw a stirrup up over the pommel of his saddle. “You girls are goin' to see wild country.”
“Cougar? That's a panther--a mountain-lion, didn't he say?”
“Shore is. Tom is a beauty. An' if he takes a likin' to you he'll love you, play with you, maul you half to death.”
“Dale has other pets, too?” she questioned, eagerly.
“I never was up to his camp but what it was overrun with birds an' squirrels an' vermin of all kinds, as tame as tame as cows. Too darn tame, Milt says. But I can't figger thet. You girls will never want to leave thet senaca of his.”
“What's a senaca?” asked Helen, as she shifted her foot to let him tighten the cinches on her saddle.
“Thet's Mexican for park, I guess,” he replied. “These mountains are full of parks; an', say, I don't ever want to see no prettier place till I get to heaven.... There, Ranger, old boy, thet's tight.”
He slapped the horse affectionately, and, turning to his own, he stepped and swung his long length up.
“It ain't deep crossin' here. Come on,” he called, and spurred his bay.