“Both are direct obstacles to the design of Nature. Nature is physical. To create for limitless endurance for eternal life. That must be Nature's inscrutable design. An' why she must fail.” “But the soul!” whispered Helen. “Ah! When you speak of the soul an' I speak of life we mean the same. You an' I will have some talks while you're here. I must brush up my thoughts.” “So must I, it seems,” said Helen, with a slow smile. She had been rendered grave and thoughtful. “But I guess I'll risk dreaming under the pines.” Bo had been watching them with her keen blue eyes. “Nell, it'd take a thousand years to make a savage of you,” she said. “But a week will do for me.” “Bo, you were one before you left Saint Joe,” replied Helen. “Don't you remember that school-teacher Barnes who said you were a wildcat and an Indian mixed? He spanked you with a ruler.” “Never! He missed me,” retorted Bo, with red in her cheeks. “Nell, I wish you'd not tell things about me when I was a kid.” “That was only two years ago,” expostulated Helen, in mild surprise. “Suppose it was. I was a kid all right. I'll bet you--” Bo broke up abruptly, and, tossing her head, she gave Tom a pat and then ran away around the corner of cliff wall. Helen followed leisurely. “Say, Nell,” said Bo, when Helen arrived at their little green ledge-pole hut, “do you know that hunter fellow will upset some of your theories?” “Maybe. I'll admit he amazes me--and affronts me, too, I'm afraid,” replied Helen. “What surprises me is that in spite of his evident lack of schooling he's not raw or crude. He's elemental.” “Sister dear, wake up. The man's wonderful. You can learn more from him than you ever learned in your life. So can I. I always hated books, anyway.” When, a little later, Dale approached carrying some bridles, the hound Pedro trotted at his heels. “I reckon you'd better ride the horse you had,” he said to Bo. “Whatever you say. But I hope you let me ride them all, by and by.” “Sure. I've a mustang out there you'll like. But he pitches a little,” he rejoined, and turned away toward the park. The hound looked after him and then at Helen. “Come, Pedro. Stay with me,” called Helen. Dale, hearing her, motioned the hound back. Obediently Pedro trotted to her, still shy and soberly watchful, as if not sure of her intentions, but with something of friendliness about him now. Helen found a soft, restful seat in the sun facing the park, and there composed herself for what she felt would be slow, sweet, idle hours. Pedro curled down beside her. The tall form of Dale stalked across the park, out toward the straggling horses. Again she saw a deer grazing among them. How erect and motionless it stood watching Dale! Presently it bounded away toward the edge of the forest. Some of the horses whistled and ran, kicking heels high in the air. The shrill whistles rang clear in the stillness.