such a fight for water this
year that every foreman seems to think that unless he reaches the river
to-day it'll be dry to-morrow. Five miles apart was the limit agreed on
before leaving Dodge, and here I am with six herds--twenty thousand
cattle!--within twenty miles of the Beaver. For fear of a stampede last
night, we threw the herds left and right, two miles off the trail. The
Lord surely loves cattle or the earth would have shook from
running herds!"

That afternoon and the next morning the second division of the Lovell
herds crossed the Beaver. Forrest rode in and saluted the boys with his
usual rough caress.

"Saddle up horses," said he, "and drop back and come through with the
two rear herds, There's a heavy drag end on each one, and an extra man
to nurse those tender cows over here, to home and friends, will be
lending a hand to the needy. I'll run the ranch while you're gone. One
of you to each, the fourth and fifth herds, remember. I'll meet you
to-morrow morning, and we'll cut the cripples out and point them in to
the new tanks below. Shake out your fat horses, sweat them up a
little--you're needed at the rear of Lovell's main drive."

The boys saddled and rode away in a gallop. Three of the rear herds
reached the Beaver that afternoon, watered, and passed on to safe camps
beyond. One of Quirk's wagons had left a quarter of beef at
headquarters, and Forrest spent the night amid peace and plenty where
the year before he lay wounded.

The next morning saw the last of the Lovell herds arrive. The lead one
yielded ninety cripples, and an hour later the rear guard disgorged a
few over one hundred head. The two contingents were thrown together, the
brothers nursed them in to the new tanks, where they were freed on a
perfect range. A count of the cripples and fagged cattle, culled back at
headquarters, brought the total discard of the sixteen herds up to two
hundred and forty-odd, a riffraff of welcome flotsam, running from a
young steer to a seven-year-old beef. The sweepings had paid the
reckoning.

Several other trail foremen, scouting in advance of their herds, had
reached the Beaver, or had been given assurance that water was to be had
in abundance. A measurement of the water was awaited with interest, and
once the rear herd grazed out from the beaver ponds, Forrest and the
brothers rode around the pools to take soundings.

"I cut notches on willow roots, at each beaver dam, and the loss runs
from four