nd in two fierce plunges, doubled like a shot, and was off on the
other tack. An unaccustomed rider would here have lost his seat. The
second dash was short. With a final shake of the head, the steers
turned to the proper course in the direction of the ranch. The pony
dropped unconcernedly to the shuffling jog of habitual progression.

Far away stretched the arc of our cordon. The most distant rider was
a speck, and the cattle ahead of him were like maggots endowed with a
smooth, swift onward motion. As yet the herd had not taken form; it
was still too widely scattered. Its units, in the shape of small
bunches, momently grew in numbers. The distant plains were crawling
and alive with minute creatures making toward a common tiny centre.

Immediately in our front the cattle at first behaved very well. Then
far down the long gentle slope I saw a break for the upper valley. The
manikin that represented Homer at once became even smaller as it
departed in pursuit. The Cattleman moved down to cover Homer's
territory until he should return--and I in turn edged farther to the
right. Then another break from another bunch. The Cattleman rode at
top speed to head it. Before long he disappeared in the distant
mesquite. I found myself in sole charge of a front three miles long.

The nearest cattle were some distance ahead, and trotting along at a
good gait. As they had not yet discovered the chance left open by
unforeseen circumstance, I descended and took in on my cinch while yet
there was time. Even as I mounted, an impatient movement on the part
of experienced Brown Jug told me that the cattle had seen their
opportunity.

I gathered the reins and spoke to the horse. He needed no further
direction, but set off at a wide angle, nicely calculated, to intercept
the truants. Brown Jug was a powerful beast. The spring of his leap
was as whalebone. The yellow earth began to stream past like water.
Always the pace increased with a growing thunder of hoofs. It seemed
that nothing could turn us from the straight line, nothing check the
headlong momentum of our rush. My eyes filled with tears from the wind
of our going. Saddle strings streamed behind. Brown Jug's mane
whipped my bridle band. Dimly I was conscious of soapweed, sacatone,
mesquite, as we passed them. They were abreast and gone before I could
think of them or how they were to be dodged. Two antelope bounded away
to the left; birds rose hastily fr