e until late afternoon.

The day was an August masterpiece, warm, but not too warm, with a fresh
breeze blowing and shreds of blue haze lingering over the timber along
the creek.

"It has almost a fall feel," said Chicken Little.

A brisk half-hour's work, in which Huz and Buz took an active part,
hindering rather more than helping in the cattle driving, was sufficient
to transfer the herd from the pasture to the stubble field. Chicken
Little was thankful she had discarded her skirt, for they had many a
chase after refractory animals through the timber and underbrush. Calico
and Caliph, being mustangs, seemed to enjoy the sport as much as their
riders.

"Cricky, Caliph is almost human when it comes to heading off a steer,
and he's never done much cattle driving either. He must have inherited
the range instinct."

"Humph, what about Calico?" retorted Jane. "He turned that roan Father
always says is so mean, three times."

The cattle scattered over the stubble eagerly. Ernest picketed the
ponies so they could graze after their good work and he and Chicken
Little threw themselves down under a red bud tree near the edge of the
field to rest.

"They won't stray much till they get their stomachs full," said Ernest,
"and that won't be before afternoon. I brought a book along--Cooper's
'Naval History.' It's great, though Father says it's better romance than
history. Do you mind if I read you a bit?"

Chicken Little backed up against a tree and settled herself comfortably
and they were soon fighting with Paul Jones, so utterly absorbed that
the herd had drifted down to the farther end of the field before they
realized it. A half dozen adventurous beasts were already disappearing
into the timber, apparently headed for the Captain's cornfield, which
lay just beyond the creek.

"The pesky brutes! Why can't they be content with a good square meal at
home?" Ernest hated to be interrupted.

"Perhaps they like to go visiting as much as we do. Besides, they don't
often have a chance at green corn."

It took some time to recover the truants. By the time they were settled
once more under the tree, the sun was nearing the zenith and they were
growing hungry.

"It's only half past eleven, but I'm starved. Let's eat now." Ernest
eyed the packet of luncheon hungrily.

"All right, go fill the water jug, and I'll get it out."

After lunch they read for awhile, but, presently, the sun seemed to grow
hotter and they commenced t