"No, mother worries more or less when I'm away; but then she knows it don't do any good. I'm taking all kinds of chances every day, anyhow." He had to admit that she was better able to care for herself in the wilderness than most men--even Western men--and though he had not yet witnessed a display of her skill with a rifle, he was ready to believe that she could shoot as well as her sire. Nevertheless, he liked her better when engaged in purely feminine duties, and he led the talk back to subjects concerning which her speech was less blunt and manlike. He liked her when she was joking, for delicious little curves of laughter played about her lips. She became very amusing, as she told of her "visits East," and of her embarrassments in the homes of city friends. "I just have to own up that about all the schooling I've got is from the magazines. Sometimes I wish I had pulled out for town when I was about fourteen; but, you see, I didn't feel like leaving mother, and she didn't feel like letting me go--and so I just got what I could at Bear Tooth." She sprang up. "There's a patch of blue sky. Let's go see if we can't get a grouse." The snow had nearly all sunk into the ground on their level; but it still lay deep on the heights above, and the torn masses of vapor still clouded the range. "Father has surely had to go over the divide," she said, as they walked down the path along the lake shore. "He'll be late getting back, and a plate of hot chicken will seem good to him." Together they strolled along the edge of the willows. "The grouse come down to feed about this time," she said. "We'll put up a covey soon." It seemed to him as though he were re-living the experiences of his ancestors--the pioneers of Michigan--as he walked this wilderness with this intrepid huntress whose alert eyes took note of every moving thing. She was delightfully unconscious of self, of sex, of any doubt or fear. A lovely Diana--strong and true and sweet. Within a quarter of a mile they found their birds, and she killed four with five shots. "This is all we need," she said, "and I don't believe in killing for the sake of killing. Rangers should set good examples in way of game preservation. They are deputy game-wardens in most states, and good ones, too." They stopped for a time on a high bank above the lake, while the sunset turned the storm-clouds into mountains of brass and iron, with sulphurous caves and molten glowing ledges. This grandiose picture lasted but a few minutes, and then the Western gates closed and all was again gray and forbidding. "Open and shut is a sign of wet," quoted Berrie, cheerily. The night rose formidably from the valley while they ate their supper; but Berrie remained tranquil. "Those horses probably went clean back to the ranch. If they did, daddy can't possibly get back before eight o'clock, and he may not get back till to-morrow." VII THE WALK IN THE RAIN