Carley sat up before Glenn and Flo reached her.  Manifestly they were concerned about her, but both were ready to burst with laughter.  Carley knew she was not hurt and she was so glad to be off the mustang that, on the moment, she could almost have laughed herself.

“That beast is well named,” she said.  “He spilled me, all right.  And I presume I resembled a sack of beans.”

“Carley—­you’re—­not hurt?” asked Glenn, choking, as he helped her up.

“Not physically.  But my feelings are.”

Then Glenn let out a hearty howl of mirth, which was seconded by a loud 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.

The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeet together, turned them loose.  Twilight had fallen and each man appeared to be briskly set upon his own task.  Glenn was cutting around the foot of a thickly branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bed for her and Flo.  All that Carley could see that could be used for such purpose was a canvas-covered roll.  Presently Glenn untied a rope from round this, unrolled it, and dragged it under the cedar.  Then he spread down the outer layer of canvas, disclosing a considerable thickness of blankets.  From under the top of these he pulled out two flat little pillows.  These he placed in position, and turned back some of the blankets.

“Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp over them,” directed Glenn.  “If it rains pull the tarp up over your head—­and let it rain.”