a traveler's grub, of course. I got a fish on a night-line this
morning. Also there's a prairie chicken roasted yesterday."

A self-deceiving argument ran through Colina's brain like quick-silver:
"If I go, I shall be tormented by the feeling that he got the best of
me; if I stay a while I can put him in his place!"

She dismounted. The young man turned abruptly to tie Ginger to the
poplar-tree, but even in the boundary of his cheek Colina read his
beaming happiness.

With scarcely another glance at her he plunged down the bank and set to
work over his fire. Colina sedately followed and seated herself on a
boulder to wait until she should be served.

Now that he no longer looked at her, Colina could not help watching
him. A dangerous softness began to work in her breast; he was so
boyish, so clumsy, so anxious to entertain her fittingly--his
unconsciousness of her nearness was such a transparent assumption.

Colina was alarmed by her own weakness. She looked resolutely at the
dog.

He was a mongrel black and tan, bigger than a terrier, and he had a
ridiculous curly tail. He had received her with an insulting air of
indifference.

"What an ugly dog!" Colina said coolly.

The young man swung around and affectionately rubbed the dog's ear.