The ponies cropped the sparse grasses, or twisted on their backs,
all four legs in the air. Squirrels chattered and scolded overhead.
Some of the indigo-coloured jays of the lowlands shot in long level
flight between the trees. The girl and the boy helped each other,
hindered each other, playing here and there near the Question, but
swerving always deliciously just in time.
After lunch, more riding through more pines. The road dipped strongly
once, then again; and then abruptly the forest ceased, and they found
themselves cantering over broad rolling meadows knee-high with grasses,
from which meadow larks rose in all directions like grasshoppers. Soon
after they passed the canvas "schooners" of some who had started the
evening before. Down the next long slope the ponies dropped cautiously
with bunched feet and tentative steps. Spring Creek was forded for the
last time, another steep grassy hill was surmounted, and they looked
abroad into Rapid Valley and over to the prairie beyond.
Behind them the Hills lay, dark with the everlasting greenery of the
North--even, low, with only sun-browned Harney to raise its cliff-like
front above the rest of the range.
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