Then she pulled the rifle from its sheath.
But Bo did not hear or did not care.

She spurred the mustang, and he, wild to run, flung grass and dirt from his heels.

What Helen would have done then she never knew, but the fact was that her horse bolted after the mustang.

In an instant, seemingly, Bo had disappeared in the gold and green of the forest slope.

Helen's mount climbed on a run, snorting and heaving, through aspens, brush, and timber, to come out into a narrow, long opening extending lengthwise up the slope.
A sudden prolonged crash ahead alarmed Helen and halted her horse.