“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. “Ain't he corralled or tied up?” “No. He has the run of the place.” “Wal, good-by, then, an' rustle along.” 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.” “Who's old Tom?” queried Bo, curiously. “Why, he's Milt's pet cougar.” “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.” Bo was all eyes. “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. The stream here was wide and it looked deep, but turned out to be deceptive. “Wal, girls, here beginneth the second lesson,” he drawled, cheerily. “Ride one behind the other--stick close to me--do what I do--an' holler when you want to rest or if somethin' goes bad.” With that he spurred into the thicket. Bo went next and Helen followed. The willows dragged at her so hard that she was unable to watch Roy, and the result was that a low-sweeping branch of a tree knocked her hard on the head. It hurt and startled her, and roused her mettle. Roy was keeping to the easy trot that covered ground so well, and he led up a slope to the open pine forest. Here the ride for several miles was straight, level, and open. Helen liked the forest to-day. It was brown and green, with patches of gold where the sun struck. She saw her first bird--big blue grouse that whirred up from under her horse, and little checkered gray quail that appeared awkward on the wing. Several times Roy pointed out deer flashing gray across some forest aisle, and often when he pointed Helen was not quick enough to see.