The Man of the Forest by Zane Grey (read me like a book txt) 📗

The mustang pitched all over the space adjacent to Dale and Helen, tearing up the moss and grass. Several times he tossed Bo high, but she slid back to grip him again with her legs, and he could not throw her. Suddenly he raised his head and bolted. Dale answered Bo's triumphant cry. But Pony had not run fifty feet before he tripped and fell, throwing Bo far over his head. As luck would have it—good luck, Dale afterward said—she landed in a boggy place and the force of her momentum was such that she slid several yards, face down, in wet moss and black ooze.

Helen uttered a scream and ran forward. Bo was getting to her knees when Dale reached her. He helped her up and half led, half carried her out of the boggy place. Bo was not recognizable. From head to foot she was dripping black ooze.

“Oh, Bo! Are you hurt?” cried Helen.

Evidently Bo's mouth was full of mud.

“Pp—su—tt! Ough! Whew!” she sputtered. “Hurt? No! Can't you see what I lit in? Dale, the sun-of-a-gun didn't throw me. He fell, and I went over his head.”

“Right. You sure rode him. An' he tripped an' slung you a mile,” replied Dale. “It's lucky you lit in that bog.”

“Lucky! With eyes and nose stopped up? Oooo! I'm full of mud. And my nice—new riding-suit!”

Bo's tones indicated that she was ready to cry. Helen, realizing Bo had not been hurt, began to laugh. Her sister was the funniest-looking object that had ever come before her eyes.

“Nell Rayner—are you—laughing—at me?” demanded Bo, in most righteous amaze and anger.

“Me laugh-ing? N-never, Bo,” replied Helen. “Can't you see I'm just—just—”

“See? You idiot! my eyes are full of mud!” flashed Bo. “But I hear you. I'll—I'll get even.”

Dale was laughing, too, but noiselessly, and Bo, being blind for the moment, could not be aware of that. By this time they had reached camp. Helen fell flat and laughed as she had never laughed before. When Helen forgot herself so far as to roll on the ground it was indeed a laughing matter. Dale's big frame shook as he possessed himself of a towel and, wetting it at the spring, began to wipe the mud off Bo's face. But that did not serve. Bo asked to be led to the water, where she knelt and, with splashing, washed out her eyes, and then her face, and then the bedraggled strands of hair.

“That mustang didn't break my neck, but he rooted my face in the mud. I'll fix him,” she muttered, as she got up. “Please let me have the towel, now.... Well! Milt Dale, you're laughing!”

“Ex-cuse me, Bo. I—Haw! haw! haw!” Then Dale lurched off, holding his sides.

Bo gazed after him and then back at Helen.

“I suppose if I'd been kicked and smashed and killed you'd laugh,” she said. And then she melted. “Oh, my pretty riding-suit! What a mess! I must be a sight.... Nell, I rode that wild pony—the sun-of-a-gun! I rode him! That's enough for me. YOU try it. Laugh all you want. It was funny. But if you want to square yourself with me, help me clean my clothes.”

Late in the night Helen heard Dale sternly calling Pedro. She felt some little alarm. However, nothing happened, and she soon went to sleep again. At the morning meal Dale explained.

“Pedro an' Tom were uneasy last night. I think there are lions workin' over the ridge somewhere. I heard one scream.”

“Scream?” inquired Bo, with interest.

“Yes, an' if you ever hear a lion scream you will think it a woman in mortal agony. The cougar cry, as Roy calls it, is the wildest to be heard in the woods. A wolf howls. He is sad, hungry, and wild. But a cougar seems human an' dyin' an' wild. We'll saddle up an' ride over there. Maybe Pedro will tree a lion. Bo, if he does will you shoot it?”

“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.”

“What!” exclaimed Bo, incredulously.

“The deer was runnin' here with the lion on his back. I'll prove it to you. Come on, now. Pedro, you stay with me. Girls, it's a fresh trail.” Dale walked along, leading his horse, and occasionally he pointed down