The Last Herd 



and at last lay still, with the hunter s boot tied to his 

 cords. 



Four ! Jones counted them aloud, and in his mind, 

 and kept on ! Fast, hard work, covering upward of 

 fifteen miles, had begun to tell on herd, horse and 

 man, and all slowed down to the call for strength. 

 The fifth time Jones closed in on his game, he encoun 

 tered different circumstances such as called forth his 

 cunning. 



The herd had opened up ; the mothers had fallen 

 back to the rear; the calves hung almost out of sight 

 under the shaggy sides of protectors. To try them 

 out Jones darted close and threw his lasso. It struck 

 a cow. With activity incredible in such a huge beast, 

 she lunged at him. Kentuck, expecting just such a 

 move, wheeled to safety. This duel, ineffectual on 

 both sides, kept up for a while, and all the time, 

 man and herd were jogging rapidly to the north. 



Jones could not let well enough alone ; he acknowl 

 edged this even as he swore he must have five. 

 Emboldened by his marvelous luck, and yielding 

 headlong to the passion within, he threw caution to 

 the winds. A lame old cow with a red calf caught 

 his eye; in he spurred his willing horse and slung 

 his rope. It stung the haunch of the mother. The 

 mad grunt she vented was no quicker than the velocity 

 with which she plunged and reared. Jones had but 



67 



