Or of a hot night: "Reckon ole mammy must
'a stuffed a hull bale of cotton inter this yere ole huldy." Or in a
pouring rain: "'Pears like ole Mahster's got a durned fool idee we'uns
is web-footed." Or in a driving snow storm: "Ef ole Mahster had to
_git rid_ o' this yere damn cold stuff, he might 'a dumped it on
fellers what 's got more firewood handy."

Vices? Well, such as the cowboy had, some one who loves him less will
have to describe. Perhaps he was a bit too frolicsome in town, and too
quick to settle a trifling dispute with weapons; but these things were
inevitable results of the life he led.

In driving a herd over a known trail where water and grass are
abundant, an experienced trail boss conforms the movement of his herd
as near as possible to the habit of wild cattle on the range. At dawn
the herd rises from the bed ground and is "drifted" or grazed, without
pushing, in the desired direction. By nine or ten o'clock they have
eaten their fill, and then they are "strung out on the trail" to water.
They step out smartly, two men--one at either side--"pointing" the
leaders; and "swing" riders along the sides push in the flanks, until
the herd is strung out for a mile or more, a narrow, bright,
particolored ribbon of moving color winding over the dark green of hill
and plain. In this way they easily march off six to nine miles by
noon. When they reach water they are scattered along the stream, drink
their fill and lie down. Dinner is then eaten, and the boys not on
herd doze in the shade of the wagon, until, a little after two o'clock,
the herd rise of their own accord and move away, guided by the riders.
Rather less distance is made in the afternoon. At twilight the herd is
rounded up into a close circular compact mass and "bedded down" for the
night; the first relief of the night guard riding slowly round, singing
softly and turning back stragglers. If properly grazed, in less than a
half-hour the herd is quiet and at rest; and, barring an occasional
wild or hungry beast trying to steal away into the darkness, so they
lie till dawn unless stampeded by some untoward incident.

Every two or three hours a new "relief" is called and the night guard
changed. Round and round all night ride the guards, jingling their
spurs and droning some low monotonous song, recounting through endless
stanzas the fearless deeds of some frontier hero, or humming some love
ditty rather too passionate for gentle ears.