“Indeed it does, Ruth,” Jean replied. “That is a lovely story. I think that Mrs. Sandy would enjoy it, too. Be careful when you come to the terraces here. Keep the ponies close to the side of the bluff.”
They had come to great natural terraces of rock and sandstone, graduating down from the trail, far to the river bed below; and here the quiet river that flowed past the ranch had turned into a turbulent, dashing torrent between narrow bluffs. From the road, they could not see it, but the sound of its rushing came booming up to them. All at once Ted cried out:
“Oh, there’s a cat in that tree, Miss Jean. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!”
“Never mind calling it, Ted,” laughed Jean. “That’s a bobcat. There it goes now. Did you see its tail? They’ll hardly ever hurt any one unless attacked first, although the boys watch for them at night, if they have to go up through the piney trails. I think we’ll see some deer when we start down the next hill. They are usually out in numbers here. Don’t talk, because they can scent us and hear us very far off.”
Quietly, the little band rode on, eyes on the alert for the turn in the road, and view of the deer, and they were rewarded by such a sight as they had never seen before. Below them stretched beautiful fertile fields. A mountain cascade in the distance fell like a gorgeous, captured cloud, so filmy and pearly white it looked. And down in the grazing ground was a herd of deer. The girls watched them for some time, delighted at the gentle beauty of the does and little ones, and the stately buck, who every now and then would rear up his many pronged horns, and listen, nose to the wind.
“I don’t think they will mind us, if we ride on, girls,” Jean said, but the deer had a different opinion. As soon as they caught sight of the ponies and riders, they were off over the fields and into the forest.
It was nearly ten when they reached the Alameda ranch. Peggie and Polly rode ahead of the rest, and let out a clear, gay shout when they came in sight of it. It lay in the valley far below, in a nest of trees.
“How did they ever find enough trees in one spot to make it so pretty?” asked Ruth.
“Sandy planted them there years ago, before he went East after his bride,” Jean told her. “He used to call it his Honeymoon Lodge in those days. How glad Mrs. Sandy will be to see us.”
And she was, too, more full of pure gladness than she had been in years, she told the girls. They found her down at the corral with Sandy himself, both of them busy with some calves. They heard the shouts from far off, and Mrs. Sandy hurried to meet them.