Mary and Davy rode with the unconscious ease of those who are born to the saddle. Mary, who had never seen a riding-habit, had contrived a divided skirt for herself, as she contrived everything for herself, cunningly. With it she wore a blue flannel shirt out of the store, that she had likewise adapted to her own figure. She had a man's felt hat, but, except when it rained, it was hanging by its thong from her saddle-horn. Her plentiful dark hair was braided and bound close round her head. Tied to her saddle she carried a light rifle, which upon occasion she used as handily as Jack himself.
Thus she was totally without feminine aids and artifices. With that firm, straight young figure, that well-set head and those eyes, she was finer without. For all he was making believe not to look at her, she stirred Jack's deepest enthusiasm, like the sight of distant hills at evening, or a lake embowered in greenery, or anything wholly beautiful and unspoiled from the hand of Nature.
The slender Davy showed none of his sister's trimness. Davy was a little nondescript. He possessed "Sunday clothes," but he detested them, and was only truly happy in his ragged trousers, his buttonless shirt, and his blackened apologies for moccasins. Davy was apparently insensible to cold, and it was all one to him whether he was wet or dry.
At ten o'clock they rode past the little boarded-up store at Fort Geikie. Two hours later they reined in at the edge of the bench on the other side of the portage. This was the spot where they had parted so unhappily. No one referred to that now. Casting his eyes over the valley, Jack pointed to a number of dark objects in the river meadows to the west.
"The horses," said Davy.
One of the little objects reared, and moved forward in a way that was familiar to them.
"And hobbled again," said Jack with a laugh.
"Of course as soon as you went away they would drive them back," said Mary. "They wouldn't want to be found with company horses in their camp."
Riding down the hill they made their noon spell on the site of Camp Trangmar. Jack opened the cache for an additional supply of grub, and what else he needed: his cherished leather chaps, his canvas lean-to, and mosquito bar.
"You won't need that," Davy said. "Sleep with me."