As the trio dismounted each drew the reins over his horse’s head, and so left them, where they stood as quietly as if they were tied. Quickly the saddles were taken off their steaming backs and placed under the shelter of the rocks. Bess and James were already safely out of the rain, and the girl was impatiently jumping up and down urging Henry West to “hurry for pity’s sake” or else he would be drowned.
As West crouched under the ledge he took off his broad hat and shook the rain from it, saying: “These things are nearly as good as an umbrella; aren’t they, James?”
“Come under here closer, Henry; you are not out of the rain yet,” said Bess. She took hold of his arm and pulled him close to her. So they stood, the fresh, rosy, smiling girl, with wilful brown tresses over her face, clinging to the dark, stalwart man on one side and to her fair-skinned brother on the other. Silently they watched the rain, which fell in gusty sheets.
The horses had shifted and stood dejectedly with their tails against the increasing onslaughts.
“Poor old baby Mauchacho,” said Bess, tenderly; “I wish there was room to crowd you in here, too.” The horse replied with a knowing wriggle of his ear, as if to say he “wished so, too.”
“Here, here, James, cheer up,” said the sister, giving him a vigorous shake. “Don’t you know that behind the clouds is still the blue sky?” He was looking nearly as lowery as the rain-clouds, and even West came from his reverie, asking what was the trouble.
“You see,” said James, “this will delay us nearly two days in rounding up the beef for that shipment, and I doubt if the men can have them at Selish in time.”
Young Fletcher had proved his mettle on the ranch.
“Oh, well, Jim! I’ll help, and I think we can manage all O. K.” answered Henry West, optimistically. “Here, Bess, sit down awhile,” he added, quickly drawing off his mackinaw and spreading it on the bed of pine needles. The girl could offer no remonstrance, as he gently placed her on the coat.
“Do you think I can be comfortable here while I know you will get cold? You’ll surely be ill!” She started to rise, but as he placed her on the seat again he assured her that when he grew cold he would ask for the coat. So she sat with her hands clasped about her knees, and her chin buried against them; her soft, liquid eyes gazing longingly across the rain-dashed landscape.