"Oh, let's take a run up that hill," Elsie said, with sudden change of tone. "Come!" and, giving Curtis no time to protest, she scuttled away, swift as a partridge. He followed her, calling: "Wait a moment, please!" When he overtook her at the foot of the first incline she was breathless, but her eyes were joyous as a child's and her cheeks were glowing. "Let me help you," he said; "and if you slip, don't put your hand on the ground; that is the way men get snake-bitten." "Snakes!" She stopped short. "I forgot--are there rattlesnakes here?" "There is always danger on the sunny side of these buttes at this time of the year, especially where the rocks crop out." "Why didn't you tell me?" "You didn't give me time." "Do you really think there is danger?" "Not if you walk slowly and follow me; I'll draw their poison. After they bite me they'll have no virus left for you." She began to smile roguishly. "You are tired--you want an excuse to rest." "If I thought you meant that, I'd run up to the summit and back again to show you that I'm younger than my years." She clapped her hands. "Do it! It will be like the knight in the story--the glove-and-lion story." "No. On reflection, I will not run; it would compromise my dignity. We will climb soberly, side by side, like Darby and Joan on the hill of life." With a demure countenance she took his hand, and they scrambled briskly up the slope. When they reached the brow of the hill she was fairly done up, while he, breathing easily, showed little fatigue, although she had felt his powerful arm sustaining her many times on the steeper slopes. She could not speak, and he smilingly said, "I hope I haven't hurried you?" "You--are--strong," she admitted, brokenly. "I'm not tired, but I can't get breath." At length they reached the summit and looked about. "What is the meaning of those little towers of stone?" she asked, after a moment's rest. "Oh, they have different meanings. Sometimes they locate the springs of water, sometimes they indicate the course of a trail. This one was put here by a young fellow to mark the spot from whence he saw a famous herd of buffalo--what time he made a wonderful killing." "I suppose all this land has been the hunting-ground of these people for ages. Do you suppose they had names for hills like this, and were fond of them like white people?" "Certainly. They had a geography of their own as complete in its way as ours, and they are wonderfully sure of direction even now. They seldom make a mistake in the correlative positions of streams or mountains, even when confused by a white man's map." "It _is_ wonderful, isn't it--that they should have lived here all those years without knowing or caring for the white man's world?" "They don't care for it now--but I see Two Horns signalling that breakfast is ready, so we had better go." "Let's run down!" "Wait!" He caught her. "It will lame you frightfully, I warn you." "Oh no, it won't."