The afternoon was hot, the little wineberry bushes were soft, and Jimmy
lay in a big hemlock's shade. A few yards in front, a falling pine had
broken the row of straight red trunks, and in the gap shining snow peaks
cut the serene sky. Below, the trees rolled down the hillside, and at
the bottom a river sparkled. Rivers, however, were numerous, the bush on
the hill-bench Jimmy had crossed was thick, and he frankly did not know
where he had come down. If the hotel was in the valley, he need not
bother, but he doubted, and was not keen about climbing another mountain
spur. In the meantime, he smoked his pipe and mused.
He owed Stannard rather a large sum. They went about to shooting parties
at country houses and lodges by Scottish salmon rivers. Visiting with
Stannard's sporting friends was expensive and he allowed Jimmy to bear
the cost. Jimmy was willing and made Stannard his banker; now and then
they reckoned up and Jimmy gave him an acknowledgment for the debt.
Although Stannard stated he was poor, his habits were extravagant and
somehow he got money.
Yet Jimmy did not think Stannard exploited him. He had found his advice
good and Stannard had saved him from some awkward entanglements. In
fact, Stannard was his friend, and although his friendship was perhaps
expensive, in a year or two Jimmy would be rich. Since his parsimonious
uncle had not let him go to a university, his spending a good sum was
justified, and to go about with Stannard was a liberal education.
Perhaps, for a careless young fellow, Jimmy's argument was strangely
commercial, but he was the son of a keen and frugal business man.
Then he began to muse about Laura. Her beauty and refinement attracted
him, but he imagined Laura knew his drawbacks, and to imagine Stannard
had planned for him to marry her was ridiculous. Stannard was not like
that, and when Laura was with him saw that Jimmy did not get much of her
society. In fact, had she not come down for breakfast before the other
guests, Jimmy imagined he would not have enjoyed a confidential talk
with her. All the same, to loaf in the shade and dwell on Laura's charm
was soothing.
In the meantime, he was hungry, and he had not bothered to carry his
lunch. When he got breakfast he had not much appetite. Since morning he
had scrambled about the rocks, and he thought the hotel was some
distance off. Getting up with something of an effort, he plunged down
hill through the underbrush. At the bottom he stopped and frowned. He
ought not to have lost his breath, but he had done so and his heart
beat. It looked as if he must cut out strong cigars and iced liquor.
A few yards off a trail went up the valley and slanted sunbeams crossed
the narrow opening. Jimmy thought he heard a horse's feet and resolved
to wait and ask about the hotel. He was in the shade, but for a short
distance the spot commanded the trail.
The beat of horse's feet got louder and a girl rode out from the gap in
the dark pine branches. A sunbeam touched her and her hair, and the
steel buckle in her soft felt hat shone. She rode astride and wore
fringed leggings and a jacket of soft deerskin. Her figure was graceful
and she swung easily with the horse's stride. Her hair was like gold and
her eyes were deep blue. Jimmy afterwards thought it strange he noted so
much, but she, so to speak, sprang from the gloom like a picture on a
film, and the picture held him.
He did not know if the girl was beautiful, but in the tangled woods her
charm was keen. Her dress harmonized with the moss on the tall red
trunks, and the ripening fern. Something primitive and strong marked her
easy, confident pose. The horse, an Indian _cayuse_, tossed its head and
glanced about nervously, as if its habit was to scent danger in the
bush. Jimmy sprang from primitive stock and he knew, half instinctively,
the girl's type was his. He must, however, inquire about the hotel, and
he pushed through the raspberries by the trail.
The horse, startled by the noise, stopped and tried to turn. The girl
pulled the bridle and braced herself back. The cayuse jumped like a cat,
plunged forward, and feeling the bit, bucked savagely. Jimmy wondered
how long the girl would stick to the saddle, but after a moment or two
the cayuse started for the bush. Jimmy thought he knew the trick, for
when a cayuse cannot buck off its rider it goes for a tree, and if one
keeps one's foot in the stirrup, one risks a broken leg. He jumped for
its head and seized the links at the bit.
The girl ordered him to let go, but he did not. He had frightened her
horse and must not allow the savage brute to jamb her against a tree.
Its ears were pressed back and he saw its teeth, but so long as he stuck
to the bit, it could not seize his hand. Then it went round in a
semi-circle, the link twisted and pinched his fingers, and he knew he
could not hold on. The animal's head went up, Jimmy got a heavy blow and
fell across the trail. A few moments afterwards he heard a beat of
hoofs, some distance off, and knew the cayuse was gone. The girl,
breathing rather hard, leaned against a trunk.
"Are you hurt?" she asked.
"I don't know yet," Jimmy gasped. "I'll find out when I get up."