Bo mounted without a helping hand, but Helen's limbs were so stiff that she could not get astride the high Ranger without assistance. The hunter headed up the slope of the canyon, which on that side was not steep. It was brown pine forest, with here and there a clump of dark, silver-pointed evergreens that Roy called spruce. By the time this slope was surmounted Helen's aches were not so bad. The saddle appeared to fit her better, and the gait of the horse was not so unfamiliar. She reflected, however, that she always had done pretty well uphill. Here it was beautiful forest-land, uneven and wilder. They rode for a time along the rim, with the white rushing stream in plain sight far below, with its melodious roar ever thrumming in the ear.
Dale reined in and peered down at the pine-mat.
"Fresh deer sign all along here," he said, pointing.
"Wal, I seen thet long ago," rejoined Roy.
Helen's scrutiny was rewarded by descrying several tiny depressions in the pine-needles, dark in color and sharply defined.
"We may never get a better chance," said Dale. "Those deer are workin' up our way. Get your rifle out."
Travel was resumed then, with Roy a little in advance of the pack-train. Presently he dismounted, threw his bridle, and cautiously peered ahead. Then, turning, he waved his sombrero. The pack-animals halted in a bunch. Dale beckoned for the girls to follow and rode up to Roy's horse. This point, Helen saw, was at the top of an intersecting canuon. Dale dismounted, without drawing his rifle from its saddle-sheath, and approached Roy.
"Buck an' two does," he said, low-voiced. "An' they've winded us, but don't see us yet.... Girls, ride up closer."
Following the directions indicated by Dale's long arm, Helen looked down the slope. It was open, with tall pines here and there, and clumps of silver spruce, and aspens shining like gold in the morning sunlight. Presently Bo exclaimed: "Oh, look! I see! I see!" Then Helen's roving glance passed something different from green and gold and brown. Shifting back to it she saw a magnificent stag, with noble spreading antlers, standing like a statue, his head up in alert and wild posture. His color was gray. Beside him grazed two deer of slighter and more graceful build, without horns.
"It's downhill," whispered Dale. "An' you're goin' to overshoot."
Then Helen saw that Roy had his rifle leveled.
"Oh, don't!" she cried.
Dale's remark evidently nettled Roy. He lowered the rifle.