She must get away from that in order to see it clearly, and she began to have doubts of herself.
Meanwhile the active and restful outdoor life went on.

Bo leaned more and more toward utter reconciliation to it.

Her eyes had a wonderful flash, like blue lightning; her cheeks were gold and brown; her hands tanned dark as an Indian's.
She could vault upon the gray mustang, or, for that matter, clear over his back.

She learned to shoot a rifle accurately enough to win Dale's praise, and vowed she would like to draw a bead upon a grizzly bear or upon Snake Anson.
"Bo, if you met that grizzly Dale said has been prowling round camp lately you'd run right up a tree," declared Helen, one morning, when Bo seemed particularly boastful.
"Don't fool yourself," retorted Bo.
"But I've seen you run from a mouse!" "Sister, couldn't I be afraid of a mouse and not a bear ?" "I don't see how." "Well, bears, lions, outlaws, and other wild beasts are to be met with here in the West, and my mind's made up," said Bo, in slow-nodding deliberation.
They argued as they had always argued, Helen for reason and common sense and restraint, Bo on the principle that if she must fight it was better to get in the first blow.
The morning on which this argument took place Dale was a long time in catching the horses.

When he did come in he shook his head seriously.
"Some varmint's been chasin' the horses," he said, as he reached for his saddle.