“Gee! Look at them go!” exclaimed Bo, gleefully, coming up to where Helen sat. Bo threw herself down upon the fragrant pine-needles and stretched herself languorously, like a lazy kitten. There was something feline in her lithe, graceful outline. She lay flat and looked up through the pines. “Wouldn't it be great, now,” she murmured, dreamily, half to herself, “if that Las Vegas cowboy would happen somehow to come, and then an earthquake would shut us up here in this Paradise valley so we'd never get out?” “Bo! What would mother say to such talk as that?” gasped Helen. “But, Nell, wouldn't it be great?” “It would be terrible.” “Oh, there never was any romance in you, Nell Rayner,” replied Bo. “That very thing has actually happened out here in this wonderful country of wild places. You need not tell me! Sure it's happened. With the cliff-dwellers and the Indians and then white people. Every place I look makes me feel that. Nell, you'd have to see people in the moon through a telescope before you'd believe that.” “I'm practical and sensible, thank goodness!” “But, for the sake of argument,” protested Bo, with flashing eyes, “suppose it MIGHT happen. Just to please me, suppose we DID get shut up here with Dale and that cowboy we saw from the train. Shut in without any hope of ever climbing out.... What would you do? Would you give up and pine away and die? Or would you fight for life and whatever joy it might mean?” “Self-preservation is the first instinct,” replied Helen, surprised at a strange, deep thrill in the depths of her. “I'd fight for life, of course.” “Yes. Well, really, when I think seriously I don't want anything like that to happen. But, just the same, if it DID happen I would glory in it.” While they were talking Dale returned with the horses. “Can you bridle an' saddle your own horse?” he asked. “No. I'm ashamed to say I can't,” replied Bo. “Time to learn then. Come on. Watch me first when I saddle mine.” Bo was all eyes while Dale slipped off the bridle from his horse and then with slow, plain action readjusted it. Next he smoothed the back of the horse, shook out the blanket, and, folding it half over, he threw it in place, being careful to explain to Bo just the right position. He lifted his saddle in a certain way and put that in place, and then he tightened the cinches. “Now you try,” he said. According to Helen's judgment Bo might have been a Western girl all her days. But Dale shook his head and made her do it over. “That was better. Of course, the saddle is too heavy for you to sling it up. You can learn that with a light one. Now put the bridle on again. Don't be afraid of your hands. He won't bite. Slip the bit in sideways.... There. Now let's see you mount.” When Bo got into the saddle Dale continued: “You went up quick an' light, but the wrong way. Watch me.”