true relation of things; she could not be deceived by distance
she had covered.

Gradually the black dots enlarged and assumed shape of cattle and horses
moving round a great dusty patch. In another half-hour Madeline rode
behind Florence to the outskirts of the scene of action. They drew rein
near a huge wagon in the neighborhood of which were more than a hundred
horses grazing and whistling and trotting about and lifting heads to
watch the new-comers. Four cowboys stood mounted guard over this drove
of horses. Perhaps a quarter of a mile farther out was a dusty melee.
A roar of tramping hoofs filled Madeline's ears. The lines of marching
cattle had merged into a great, moving herd half obscured by dust.

"I can make little of what is going on," said Madeline. "I want to go
closer."

They trotted across half the intervening distance, and when Florence
halted again Madeline was still not satisfied and asked to be taken
nearer. This time, before they reined in again, Al Hammond saw them and
wheeled his horse in their direction. He yelled something which Madeline
did not understand, and then halted them.

"Close enough," he called; and in the din his voice was not very clear.
"It's not safe. Wild steers! I'm glad you came, girls. Majesty, what do
you think of that bunch of cattle?"

Madeline could scarcely reply what she thought, for the noise and dust
and ceaseless action confused her.

"They're milling, Al," said Florence.

"We just rounded them up. They're milling, and that's bad. The vaqueros
are hard drivers. They beat us all hollow, and we drove some, too." He
was wet with sweat, black with dust, and out of breath. "I'm off now.
Flo, my sister will have enough of this in about two minutes. Take her
back to the wagon. I'll tell Bill you're here, and run in whenever I get
a minute."

The bawling and bellowing, the crackling of horns and pounding of hoofs,
the dusty whirl of cattle, and the flying cowboys disconcerted Madeline
and frightened her a little; but she was intensely interested and meant
to stay there until she saw for herself what that strife of sound and
action meant. When she tried to take in the whole scene she did not make
out anything clearly and she determined to see it little by little.

"Will you stay longer?" asked Florence; and, receiving an affirmative
reply, she warned Madeline: "If a runaway steer or angry cow comes this
way let your horse go. He'll get out of the way."

That lent t