"OH, I COULD KILL YOU!" Before sundown they reached the timberland on Bear Top.

The horses slipped on the pine needles when Al left the trail and rode up a gentle incline where the trees grew large and there was little underbrush.

It was very beautiful, with the slanting sun-rays painting broad yellow bars across the gloom of the forest.

In a little while they reached the crest of that slope, and Lorraine, looking back, could only guess at where the trail wound on among the trees lower down.
Birds called companionably from the high branches above them.

A nesting grouse flew chuttering out from under a juniper bush, alighted a short distance away and went limping and dragging one wing before them, cheeping piteously.
While Lorraine was wondering if the poor thing had hurt a leg in lighting, Al clipped its head off neatly with a bullet from his six-shooter, though Lorraine had not seen him pull the gun and did not know he meant to shoot.