gray white of
the snowy western mountains passed from one dead shade to another,
until, at last, they gleamed like alabaster from afar with a diamond
brilliancy almost painful to the eye. Thus the sun rose like some mighty
caldron of fire mounting into the cloudless azure of a perfect sky,
showering unctuous rays of light and heat upon the chilled life that was
of its own creating.

Bill was still lost in thought, gazing out upon the perfect scene from
the vantage point of the hill upon which his "shack" stood, when round
the corner of the house came a half-breed, bearing a large tin pannikin
of steaming coffee. He took the pannikin from the man and propped
himself against a post which helped to support the roof of the veranda.

"Are the boys out yet?" he asked the waiting Breed, and nodding towards
the corrals, which reposed at the foot of the hill and were overlooked
by the house.

"I guess," the fellow replied laconically. Then, as an afterthought,
"They're getting breakfast, anyhow."

"Say, when they've finished their grub you can tell 'em to turn to and
lime out the sheds. I'm going in to the settlement to-day. If I'm not
back to-night let them go right on with the job to-morrow."

The man signified his understanding of the instructions with a grunt.
This cook of "Lord" Bill's was not a man of words. His vocation had
induced an irascibility of temper which took the form of silence. His
was an incipient misanthropy.

Bill returned the empty pannikin and strolled down towards the corrals
and sheds. The great barn lay well away from where the cattle
congregated. This ranch was very different from that of the Allandales
of Foss River. It was some miles away from the settlement. Its
surroundings were far more open. Timber backed the house, it is true,
but in front was the broad expanse of the open plains. It was an
excellent position, and, governed by a thrifty hand, would undoubtedly
have thrived and ultimately vied with the more elaborate establishment
over which Jacky held sway. As it was, however, Bill cared little for
prosperity and money-making, and though he did not neglect his property
he did not attempt to extend its present limits.

The milch cows were slowly mouching from the corrals as he neared the
sheds. A diminutive herder was urging them along with shrill, piping
shrieks--vicious but ineffective. Far more to the purpose were the
efforts to a well-trained, bob-tailed sheep dog who was awaking ech