faint grey light. I watched Windy Bill near his
tarpaulin. He stooped to throw over the canvas. When he bent, it was
before daylight; when he straightened his back, daylight had come. It
was just like that, as though someone had reached out his hand to turn
on the illumination of the world.

The eastern mountains were fragile, the plain was ethereal, like a sea
of liquid gases. From the pasture we heard the shoutings of the
wranglers, and made out a cloud of dust. In a moment the first of the
remuda came into view, trotting forward with the free grace of the
unburdened horse. Others followed in procession: those near sharp and
well defined, those in the background more or less obscured by the
dust, now appearing plainly, now fading like ghosts. The leader turned
unhesitatingly into the corral. After him poured the stream of the
remuda--two hundred and fifty saddle horses--with an unceasing thunder
of hoofs.

Immediately the cook-camp was deserted. The cowboys entered the
corral. The horses began to circle around the edge of the enclosure as
around the circumference of a circus ring. The men, grouped at the
centre, watched keenly, looking for the mounts they had already decided
on. In no time each had recognised his choice, and, his loop trailing,
was walking toward that part of the revolving circumference where his
pony dodged. Some few whirled the loop, but most cast it with a quick
flip. It was really marvellous to observe the accuracy with which the
noose would fly, past a dozen tossing heads, and over a dozen backs, to
settle firmly about the neck of an animal perhaps in the very centre of
the group. But again, if the first throw failed, it was interesting to
see how the selected pony would dodge, double back, twist, turn, and
hide to escape second cast. And it was equally interesting to observe
how his companions would help him.

They seemed to realise that they were not wanted, and would push
themselves between the cowboy and his intended mount with the utmost
boldness. In the thick dust that instantly arose, and with the
bewildering thunder of galloping, the flashing change of grouping, the
rush of the charging animals, recognition alone would seem almost
impossible, yet in an incredibly short time each had his mount, and the
others, under convoy of the wranglers, were meekly wending their way
out over the plain. There, until time for a change of horses, they
would graze in a loose and scatt