Helen had to congratulate herself upon not
being so crippled as she had imagined. Indeed, Bo made all the audible
complaints.

Both girls had long water-proof coats, brand-new, and of which they were
considerably proud. New clothes had not been a common event in their
lives.

"Reckon I'll have to slit these," Dale had said, whipping out a huge
knife.

"What for?" had been Bo's feeble protest.

"They wasn't made for ridin'. An' you'll get wet enough even if I do cut
them. An' if I don't, you'll get soaked."

"Go ahead," had been Helen's reluctant permission.

So their long new coats were slit half-way up the back. The exigency of
the case was manifest to Helen, when she saw how they came down over the
cantles of the saddles and to their boot-tops.

The morning was gray and cold. A fine, misty rain fell and the trees
dripped steadily. Helen was surprised to see the open country again and
that apparently they were to leave the forest behind for a while. The
country was wide and flat on the right, and to the left it rolled and
heaved along a black, scalloped timber-line. Above this bordering of
the forest low, drifting clouds obscured the mountains. The wind was at
Helen's back and seemed to be growing stronger. Dale and Roy were ahead,
traveling at a good trot, with the pack-animals bunched before them.
Helen and Bo had enough to do to keep up.

The first hour's ride brought little change in weather or scenery, but
it gave Helen an inkling of what she must endure if they kept that up
all day. She began to welcome the places where the horses walked, but
she disliked the levels. As for the descents, she hated those. Ranger
would not go down slowly and the shake-up she received was unpleasant.
Moreover, the spirited black horse insisted on jumping the ditches and
washes. He sailed over them like a bird. Helen could not acquire the
knack of sitting the saddle properly, and so, not only was her person
bruised on these occasions, but her feelings were hurt. Helen had
never before been conscious of vanity. Still, she had never rejoiced
in looking at a disadvantage, and her exhibitions here must have been
frightful. Bo always would forge to the front, and she seldom looked
back, for which Helen was grateful.

Before long they struck into a broad, muddy belt, full of innumerable
small hoof tracks. This, then, was the sheep trail Roy had advised
following. They rode on it for three or four miles, and at length,
coming t