rrow.

Although not an animal was visible, the rider had the contour of the
herd so vividly impressed on his mind that he felt no misgiving, when he
began edging his steed more to the left, and finally brought him to a
stand-still, as he believed, at the very front of the collection.
Indeed, his confidence would not have been greater had the sun been
shining.

But when he halted and listened he failed to hear anything of them.

"I must have ridden too far ahead," was his conclusion, as he started
his horse on a walk to meet them; "but they are surely near by."

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and then he drew rein with an
exclamation of amazement, for his keen sense of hearing did not catch
the first sound of the cattle.

"I have lost the herd!" he muttered in dismay, and such was the fact.
His cheeks burned with chagrin at the consciousness of what at first
thought seems an impossible error on the part of man or youth with any
experience in attending cattle.

It was Avon's first mishap of the kind, and he felt as though he could
never face his comrades again, if they should discover the blunder,
which, after all, was not so striking, when the attendant circumstances
are borne in mind.

But if excuse could be accepted for his slip, there was none for
inaction after its discovery. It was not to be supposed that the animals
would set out to hunt him, nor that any knowledge could be gained of
them by idleness. There were other men on duty, and he shouted at the
top of his voice, in the hope of receiving a response, but there was
none.

Slipping from his saddle, he knelt down and placed his ear to the
ground. He fancied he detected faint sounds, such as are made by
multitudinous hoofs on the soft, wet earth, but the noises were so
slight that he could not identify the direction whence they came, and he
hastily climbed into the saddle again.

He realized that he was lost, and well aware that at such times it is
useless to puzzle one's brains about the point of the compass, he dashed
in the direction which seemed to be the right one. Of course, as in his
recent experience, it proved to be wrong, and he now spurred toward the
top of the ridge or hill, which it was easy to identify under the tread
of his mustang. He was confident that this elevation would yield the key
to the situation and he was not mistaken.

From the crest he observed the starlike glimmer of a lantern, and no
sight, except that of the herd it