They did it all. The Rock was still the favourite place to read or
talk--crossbars nailed on firmly made "shinning" unnecessary now--but
it was often deserted for days while they explored. Bennington had
bought the little bronco, and together they extended their
investigations of the country in all directions. They rode to Spring
Creek Valley. They passed the Range over into Custer Valley. Once they
climbed Harney by way of Grizzly Gulch.
Thus they grew to know the Hills intimately. From the summit of the
Rock they would often look abroad over the tangle of valleys and
ridges, selecting the objective points for their next expedition. Many
surprises awaited them, for they found that here, as everywhere, a
seemingly uniform exterior covered an almost infinite variety.
Or again, the horses were given a rest. The sarvis-berries ripened, and
they picked hatfuls. Then followed the raspberries on the stony hills.
They walked four unnecessary miles to see a forest fire, and six to buy
buckskin work from a band of Sioux who had come up into the timber for
their annual supply of tepee poles. They taught their ponies tricks.
They even went wading together, like two small children, in a pool of
Battle Creek.
Bennington was deliciously, carelessly, forgetfully happy. Only there
was Jim Fay. That individual was as much of a persecution as ever, and
he seemed to enjoy a greater intimacy with the girl than did the
Easterner. He did not see her as often as did the latter, but he
appeared to be more in her confidence. Bennington hated Jim Fay.