ed and indistinct, but all in motion, convinced Pan that
something had startled the horses, or they had sensed the drive.

"No difference now," shouted Pan aloud. "We're going to run your legs
off, and catch a lot of you."

The long black line of horses did not keep intact. It broke into
sections, and then into bands, most of which sheered to the left. But
one herd of about twenty kept on toward Pan. He halted Sorrel. They
came within a hundred yards before they stopped as if frozen. How
plump and shiny they were! The lean wild heads and ears all stood up.

A mouse-colored mare was leading this bunch. She whistled shrilly, and
then a big roan stallion trotted out from behind. He jumped as if he
had been struck, and taking the lead swung to Pan's left, manifestly to
get by him. But they had to run up hill while Pan had only to keep to
a level. He turned them before they got halfway to a point even with
the next driver. Away they swept, running wild, a beautiful sight, the
roan and mare leading, with the others massed behind, manes and tails
flying, dust rolling from under their clattering hoofs.

Then Pan turned ahead again, working back toward his place in the
driving line. He had a better view here. He saw his father and Gus
and Blinky ride toward each other to head off a scattered string of
horses. The leaders were too swift for the drivers and got through the
line, but most of the several herds were headed and turned. Gun shots
helped to send them scurrying down the valley.

Two small bands of horses appeared coming west along the wash. Pan
loped Sorrel across to intercept them. They were ragged and motley,
altogether a score or more of the broomtails that had earned that
unflattering epithet. They had no leader and showed it in their
indecision. They were as wild as jack rabbits, and upon sighting Pan
they wheeled in their tracks and fled like the wind, down the valley.
Pan saw them turn a larger darker-colored herd. This feature was what
he had mainly relied upon. Wonderful luck of this kind might attend
the drive: even a broken line running the right way would sweep the
valley from wash to slope. But that was too much for even Pan's most
extravagant hopes.

Again he lost sight of the horses and his comrades, as he rode down a
long swell of the valley sea. The slope ahead was long and gradual,
and it mounted fairly high. Pan was keen to see the field from that
vantage point. Still he