Bo, and up went both of her hands, in one of which
was a huge piece of turkey. Tom took it, not viciously, but nevertheless
with a snap that made Helen jump. As if by magic the turkey vanished.
And Tom took a closer step toward Bo. Her expression of fright changed
to consternation.

"He stole my turkey!"

"Tom, come here," ordered Dale, sharply. The cougar glided round rather
sheepishly. "Now lie down an' behave."

Tom crouched on all-fours, his head resting on his paws, with his
beautiful tawny eyes, light and piercing, fixed upon the hunter.

"Don't grab," said Dale, holding out a piece of turkey. Whereupon Tom
took it less voraciously.

As it happened, the little bear cub saw this transaction, and he plainly
indicated his opinion of the preference shown to Tom.

"Oh, the dear!" exclaimed Bo. "He means it's not fair.... Come,
Bud--come on."

But Bud would not approach the group until called by Dale. Then he
scrambled to them with every manifestation of delight. Bo almost forgot
her own needs in feeding him and getting acquainted with him. Tom
plainly showed his jealousy of Bud, and Bud likewise showed his fear of
the great cat.

Helen could not believe the evidence of her eyes--that she was in the
woods calmly and hungrily partaking of sweet, wild-flavored meat--that
a full-grown mountain lion lay on one side of her and a baby brown bear
sat on the other--that a strange hunter, a man of the forest, there in
his lonely and isolated fastness, appealed to the romance in her and
interested her as no one else she had ever met.

When the wonderful meal was at last finished Bo enticed the bear cub
around to the camp of the girls, and there soon became great comrades
with him. Helen, watching Bo play, was inclined to envy her. No matter
where Bo was placed, she always got something out of it. She adapted
herself. She, who could have a good time with almost any one or
anything, would find the hours sweet and fleeting in this beautiful park
of wild wonders.

But merely objective actions--merely physical movements, had never yet
contented Helen. She could run and climb and ride and play with hearty
and healthy abandon, but those things would not suffice long for her,
and her mind needed food. Helen was a thinker. One reason she had
desired to make her home in the West was that by taking up a life of the
open, of action, she might think and dream and brood less. And here she
was in the wild West, after the three most