guffaw from Hutter. Flo, however, appeared to be able to restrain whatever
she felt. To Carley she looked queer.

"Pitch! You called it that," said Carley.

"Oh, he didn't really pitch. He just humped up a few times," replied Flo,
and then when she saw how Carley was going to take it she burst into a
merry peal of laughter. Charley, the sheep herder was grinning, and some of
the other men turned away with shaking shoulders.

"Laugh, you wild and woolly Westerners!" ejaculated Carley. "It must have
been funny. I hope I can be a good sport. . . . But I bet you I ride him
tomorrow."

"Shore you will," replied Flo.

Evidently the little incident drew the party closer together. Carley felt a
warmth of good nature that overcame her first feeling of humiliation. They
expected such things from her, and she should expect them, too, and take
them, if not fearlessly or painlessly, at least without resentment.

Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while doing so
she took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At second glance
the place had a certain attraction difficult for her to define. She could
see far, and the view north toward those strange gray-colored symmetrical
hills was one that fascinated while it repelled her. Near at hand the
ground sloped down to a large rock-bound lake, perhaps a mile in
circumference. In the distance, along the shore she saw a white conical
tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects she took for sheep.