he situation excitement, and Madeline became absorbed. The
great mass of cattle seemed to be eddying like a whirlpool, and from
that Madeline understood the significance of the range word "milling."
But when Madeline looked at one end of the herd she saw cattle standing
still, facing outward, and calves cringing close in fear. The motion
of the cattle slowed from the inside of the herd to the outside and
gradually ceased. The roar and tramp of hoofs and crack of horns and
thump of heads also ceased in degree, but the bawling and bellowing
continued. While she watched, the herd spread, grew less dense, and
stragglers appeared to be about to bolt through the line of mounted
cowboys.

From that moment so many things happened, and so swiftly, that Madeline
could not see a tenth of what was going on within eyesight. It seemed
horsemen darted into the herd and drove out cattle. Madeline pinned her
gaze on one cowboy who rode a white horse and was chasing a steer. He
whirled a lasso around his head and threw it; the rope streaked out
and the loop caught the leg of the steer. The white horse stopped with
wonderful suddenness, and the steer slid in the dust. Quick as a flash
the cowboy was out of the saddle, and, grasping the legs of the steer
before it could rise, he tied them with a rope. It had all been done
almost as quickly as thought. Another man came with what Madeline
divined was a branding-iron. He applied it to the flank of the steer.
Then it seemed the steer was up with a jump, wildly looking for some way
to run, and the cowboy was circling his lasso. Madeline saw fires in the
background, with a man in charge, evidently heating the irons. Then this
same cowboy roped a heifer which bawled lustily when the hot iron seared
its hide. Madeline saw the smoke rising from the touch of the iron,
and the sight made her shrink and want to turn away, but she resolutely
fought her sensitiveness. She had never been able to bear the sight of
any animal suffering. The rough work in men's lives was as a sealed book
to her; and now, for some reason beyond her knowledge, she wanted to
see and hear and learn some of the every-day duties that made up those
lives.

"Look, Miss Hammond, there's Don Carlos!" said Florence. "Look at that
black horse!"

Madeleine saw a dark-faced Mexican riding by. He was too far away for
her to distinguish his features, but he reminded her of an Italian
brigand. He bestrode a magnificent horse.

Stillwel