nd then to a walk. Finally
she stopped him, so that she could the better take in her surroundings
and the possibilities of getting down.

In the country it is as in the cities. One forms habits of journeying.
One becomes perfectly familiar with every hill and every little hollow
in certain directions, while some other, closer part remains
practically unexplored. Billy Louise had always loved the Wolverine
canyon, and its brother, Jones canyon, which branched off from the
first. As a child she had explored every foot of both, and had ridden
the hills beyond. As a young woman she had kept to the old playground.
Her cattle ranged at the head of the canyons.

The river bottoms came as near being unknown territory as she could
have found within forty miles of her home. For one thing, the river
bottom was narrow, except where was the Cove, and pinched in places
till there seemed no way of passing from one to another. Little
pockets there were, tucked away under the rocky bluff with its collar
of "rim-rock" above. One might climb down afoot, but Billy Louise was
true to her range breeding; she never went anywhere afoot if she could
possibly get there on a horse. And down there by the river she never
had happened to find it necessary to go, either afoot or a-horseback.
Still, if cattle could get down there--

"I guess we'll have to ride back a way," she said, after a brief
inspection, during which Blue stood so close to the rim that Billy
Louise must have had a clear head to feel no tremor of nerves or
dizziness.

She turned and rode slowly back along the edge, looking for the place
where she believed cattle could get down if they were crazy enough to
try.

"Don't look very encouraging, does it, Blue?" Billy Louise stared
doubtfully at the place, leaning and peering over the rim. "What d'ye
think? Reckon we can make it?"

Blue had caught sight of the moving specks far down next the river and
up the stream half a mile or more. He was a cow-horse to the bone. He
knew those far-off specks for cattle, and he knew that his lady would
like a closer look at them. That's what cattle were made for: to haze
out of brush and rocks and gullies and drive somewhere. So far as Blue
knew, cattle were a game. You hunted them out of ungodly places, and
the game was to make them go somewhere else against their wishes. He
prided himself on being able to play that game, no matter what were the
odds against him.

Now he t