o are left riding in opposite directions about the sleeping herd, each
singing vigorously, for the double purpose of warding off sleep and
keeping the herd aware of their guard. The songs are continued by the
successive watches till dawn, each singer pursuing his tune with a
glorious independence of harmony with his mate; yet in the distance, as
we sit beside the camp-fire or in waking moments at night, it is a
cheerful, vigilant sound. In the cow-boy's dialect, "singing to 'em" has
become a synonymous expression for night-herding.

[Illustration: SUNRISE FROM THE SUMMIT OF PIKE'S PEAK]

Before the day's work is finished, there is a cry heard not far away,
"Ropes! ropes!" Two men start up from the resting groups and form a sort
of temporary corral by stretching ropes from a wagon, and into it is
driven the great herd of saddle-horses, to be "hobbled" for the night.
Then the supper is served,--hastily cooked and hastily eaten. There is
little comfort about it. A kind of lengthened tail-board is let down at
the end of each wagon and supported by props. All the men of an
"outfit"--that is, those banded to work together and share the use of
one wagon--gather about this rude table and devour the meal, as they
stand, with the lion's appetite which only a wholly out-door life can
give.

Each "outfit" carries its tent, for use in bad weather; but with a
dewless night and a dry soil no one cares to stake a tent after fourteen
hours of hard riding. As soon as darkness has fairly settled over the
earth, we are all rolled in our blankets side by side on the ground as
peaceful as a row of mummies. Over us the heaven seems to glitter with a
million stars not seen in lower countries, and sleep soon comes to the
eyes turned upward towards its infinite calm. At intervals through the
night the second, third, and "cocktail" reliefs will be called to go on
duty: all hands must take their turns at night-herding.

With the first intimation of daylight the camp-fires are again dancing
in line. By each a cook begins his breakfast preparations. Long before
the appearance of the sun all the camp is astir; bedding is rolled and
packed away ready for transportation. In the universal freshness of dawn
the view westward from the hill is glorious. Through the meadows just
below us winds the Platte, shaded by noble groves of cottonwood, the
home of ten thousand meadow-larks, and already in the starry twilight
they have begun a choral symphony of in