like a sudden gust of wind.

The next instant a terrific commotion arose in the corral. There were
squeals of terror, and before the men could catch their breath the
sixty-five cow ponies had bolted in a mad stampede, overturning the
cook-wagons and thundering across the prairie.

The punchers, absolutely sightless for the instant from looking at the
flash of the powder, broke into horrible cursing, and ran blindly here and
there, colliding with one another and adding to the already great
confusion. Their one desire was to lay hands on the wretched photographer,
but that desire was never fulfilled.

For Lester Larkin, having shut his eyes during the flash, easily evaded
the men and made his way to his horse that had been tethered to a tree
near the river. With his instrument under his arm he untied the animal,
climbed on his back, and dug in the spurs. A moment later, during the
height of the confusion, he was galloping along parallel to the river. A
mile and a half from the camp he turned his horse's head and sped at full
speed toward the advancing herds.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE CROSSING

Darkness had scarcely fallen over the Larkin flocks and herd when the
former were set in motion. The bells had been removed and the sheep were
urged forward at the fastest possible pace.

Riders going by long detours had found a spot on the banks of the river
two miles up from the camp of the cowmen where the water was not more than
five or six feet deep at most, though of considerable swiftness. It was
here that it had been determined the sheep should cross. So, when the last
march was begun, the animals were driven at an angle, avoiding all the
pits and defenses of the cowmen's ingenuity.

The herders, some of them on horseback and others on foot, did not speak.
The only sounds that rose from the densely packed flocks were the clatter
of their hard feet on the earth, the cracking of their ankle bones, and an
occasional bawl of protest. But even this last was rare, for the sheep,
worn with fast traveling and ignorant of the meaning of the strange
things that were happening to them, were half-frightened; and only
contented flocks blether much.

Bud Larkin and Sims rode back and forth, one on each side of the dim,
heaving line, seeing that the herders and dogs kept their places and
preventing any tendency to bolt.

An hour after the start half the distance was accomplished. It was just at
this time that Larkin, looking