were partially justified when he discovered the horseman to be
Sims, and were entirely confirmed when he had conversed with the herder.

"We've sure got to get them sheep to water, and that mighty quick," was
the latter's laconic announcement.

"Nonsense! There's plenty of water. What's the matter with 'em?"

"Ten miles out of the hills we found a water-hole, but the cattle had been
there first, and the sheep wouldn't look at it. At the camp last night
there was another hole, but some imp had deviled the herd an' they lay
alongside the water, dyin' of thirst, but they wouldn't drink. We pushed
'em in an' they swam around; we half-drowned some of 'em, but still they
wouldn't drink.

"So we made a night march without finding water, and we haven't found any
to-day. They're gettin' frantic now."

Bud quirted the tired Pinte into a gallop, and they approached the herd,
about which the dark, slim figures of the dogs were running. From the
distance the first sound was the ceaseless blethering of the flock that
proclaimed its misery. The next was the musical tinkling of the bells the
leaders wore.

"Reckon they've found another hole," said Sims. "Thought I seen one when I
was ridin' out."

On nearer approach it was seen that the herd was "milling," that is,
revolving in a great circle, with a number of inner circles, half
smothered in the dust they raised, without aim or knowledge of what they
did, or why. About the herd at various points stood the half-dozen
shepherds, their long crooks in their hands. Whenever a blatting animal
made a dash for liberty the dogs drove it into the press, barking and
nipping.

Larkin rode to a tall, dark-skinned shepherd, a Basque from the California
herding.

"What is it, Pedro?" he asked. "What is the matter with them?"

"Only the good God can tell. The leaders they take fright at something, I
do not know, and we 'mill' them before any damage is done."

Larkin rode around the trampling, bawling mass to the rear, where were the
cook wagon and a couple of spare horses. He at once dismounted and changed
his uncomfortable riding-boots for the brogans of the herder. Pinte he
relegated to the string, for the use of a horse with sheep is ludicrous,
since the dogs are the real herders, and obey the orders given by the
uplifted arms of the men.

When he rejoined Sims, the sheep had become calmer. The flock-mind,
localized in the leaders, had come to the conclusion that, after all,
there