e a gentle
rolling sea it swept away to west and north, divided by its thin dark
line, and faintly dotted by bands of wild horses.

In the eastern sky, over the far low gap where the valley failed, the
pink light deepened to rose, and then to red. A disk of golden fire
tipped the bleak horizon. The whole country became transformed as if
with life. The sun had risen on this memorable day for Pan Smith and
his father, and for Blinky Somers. Nothing of the black shadows and
doubts and fears of night! Pan could have laughed at himself in scorn.
Here was the sunrise. How beautiful the valley! There were the wild
horses grazing near and far, innumerable hundreds and thousands of
them. The thought of the wonderful drive gripped Pan in thrilling
fascination. Horses! Horses! Horses! The time, the scene, the
impending ride called to him as nothing ever had. The thrilling
capture of wild horses would alone have raised him to the heights. How
much more tremendous, then, an issue that meant a chance of happiness
for all his loved ones.

It was seven o'clock when Pan and his men reached the western elevation
of the valley, something over a dozen miles from their fence and trap.
From this vantage point Pan could sweep the whole country with
far-sighted eyes. What he saw made them glisten.

Wild horses everywhere, like dots of brush on a bare green rolling
prairie!

"Boys, we'll ride down the valley now and pick a place where we split
to begin the drive," said Pan.

"Hosses way down there look to me like they was movin' this way,"
observed Blinky, who had eyes like a hawk.

Pan had keen eyes, too, but he did not believe his could compare with
Blinky's. That worthy had the finest of all instruments of human
vision--clear light-gray eyes, like that of an eagle. Dark eyes were
not as far-seeing on range and desert as the gray or blue. And it was
a fact that Pan had to ride down the valley a mile or more before he
could detect a movement of wild horses toward him.

"Wal, reckon mebbe thet don't mean nothin'," said Blinky. "An' then
agin mebbe it does. Hosses run around a lot of their own accord. An'
agin they get scared of somethin'. If we run into some bunches haidin'
this way we'll turn them back an' thet's work for us."

Pan called a halt there, and after sweeping his gaze over all the
valley ahead, he said: "We split here.... Mac, you and Brown ride
straight toward the slope. Mac, take a stand a half m