"Sure," replied Bo, with her mouth full of biscuit.
That was how they came to take a long, slow, steep ride under cover of dense spruce. Helen liked the ride after they got on the heights. But they did not get to any point where she could indulge in her pleasure of gazing afar over the ranges. Dale led up and down, and finally mostly down, until they came out within sight of sparser wooded ridges with parks lying below and streams shining in the sun.
More than once Pedro had to be harshly called by Dale. The hound scented game.
"Here's an old kill," said Dale, halting to point at some bleached bones scattered under a spruce. Tufts of grayish-white hair lay strewn around.
"What was it?" asked Bo.
"Deer, of course. Killed there an' eaten by a lion. Sometime last fall. See, even the skull is split. But I could not say that the lion did it."
Helen shuddered. She thought of the tame deer down at Dale's camp. How beautiful and graceful, and responsive to kindness!
They rode out of the woods into a grassy swale with rocks and clumps of some green bushes bordering it. Here Pedro barked, the first time Helen had heard him. The hair on his neck bristled, and it required stern calls from Dale to hold him in. Dale dismounted.
"Hyar, Pede, you get back," he ordered. "I'll let you go presently.... Girls, you're goin' to see somethin'. But stay on your horses."
Dale, with the hound tense and bristling beside him, strode here and there at the edge of the swale. Presently he halted on a slight elevation and beckoned for the girls to ride over.
"Here, see where the grass is pressed down all nice an' round," he said, pointing. "A lion made that. He sneaked there, watchin' for deer. That was done this mornin'. Come on, now. Let's see if we can trail him."
Dale stooped now, studying the grass, and holding Pedro. Suddenly he straightened up with a flash in his gray eyes.
"Here's where he jumped."
But Helen could not see any reason why Dale should say that. The man of the forest took a long stride then another.
"An' here's where that lion lit on the back of the deer. It was a big jump. See the sharp hoof tracks of the deer." Dale pressed aside tall grass to show dark, rough, fresh tracks of a deer, evidently made by violent action.
"Come on," called Dale, walking swiftly. "You're sure goin' to see somethin' now.... Here's where the deer bounded, carryin' the lion."