them annoy each other by going out and returning from guard
separately. The only fault I ever found with Priest was that he could
use the poorest judgment in selecting a bed ground for our blankets,
and always talked and told stories to me until I fell asleep. He was a
light sleeper himself, while I, being much younger, was the reverse.
The fourth and last guard, from three thirty until relieved after
daybreak, fell to Wyatt Roundtree, Quince Forrest, and "Moss"
Strayhorn. Thus the only men in the outfit not on night duty were
Honeyman, our horse wrangler, Barney McCann, our cook, and Flood, the
foreman. The latter, however, made up by riding almost double as much
as any man in his outfit. He never left the herd until it was bedded
down for the night, and we could always hear him quietly arousing the
cook and horse wrangler an hour before daybreak. He always kept a
horse on picket for the night, and often took the herd as it left the
bed ground at clear dawn.

A half hour before dark, Flood and all the herd men turned out to bed
down the cattle for our first night. They had been well grazed after
counting, and as they came up to the bed ground there was not a hungry
or thirsty animal in the lot. All seemed anxious to lie down, and by
circling around slowly, while gradually closing in, in the course of
half an hour all were bedded nicely on possibly five or six acres. I
remember there were a number of muleys among the cattle, and these
would not venture into the compact herd until the others had lain
down. Being hornless, instinct taught them to be on the defensive, and
it was noticeable that they were the first to arise in the morning, in
advance of their horned kin. When all had lain down, Flood and the
first guard remained, the others returning to the wagon.

The guards ride in a circle about four rods outside the sleeping
cattle, and by riding in opposite directions make it impossible for
any animal to make its escape without being noticed by the riders. The
guards usually sing or whistle continuously, so that the sleeping herd
may know that a friend and not an enemy is keeping vigil over their
dreams. A sleeping herd of cattle make a pretty picture on a clear
moonlight night, chewing their cuds and grunting and blowing over
contented stomachs. The night horses soon learn their duty, and a
rider may fall asleep or doze along in the saddle, but the horses will
maintain their distance in their leisurely, sentinel roun