Dave was inclined to believe the latter-
-he had often averred that Bessie Belle knew quite as much as or
more than he. At any rate she picked her way with admirable care,
her hoofs made almost no sound upon the wet soil; only the
complaint of the saddle leathers or the swish of a wet branch rose
above the steady patter of the raindrops. It was not necessary to
guide her; she selected the openings of her own free will, her
small, sharp ears were alert, and her eyes searched the glades
intently.
Dave smiled at this excess of caution and stroked Bessie Belle's
wet neck encouragingly, whereupon she turned her head and it
seemed to the rider that she nodded her complete understanding.
Law could have kissed her.
X
A RANGER'S HORSE
Onward through the dense foliage the two friends wound. Now and
then they stopped to listen, but the rain was heavy enough to
drown all other noises. Encountering fresh tracks finally, Dave
leaned from his saddle and studied them. What he saw caused him to
push forward with no diminution of stealth.
He had gone perhaps half a mile when Bessie Belle raised her head,
and he noted that her nostrils were working sensitively.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144