HUNTING IN CATTLE COUNTRY 149 



I was likely to find them. Often, however, I was disap- 

 pointed; and more than once after travelling many miles 

 to where I hoped to find water, there would be nothing 

 but sun-cracked mud, and the horse and I would have 

 eighteen hours of thirst in consequence. A ranch horse, 

 however, is accustomed to such incidents, and of course 

 when a man spends half the time riding, it is merely a 

 matter of slight inconvenience to go so long without a 

 drink. 



Nevertheless, if I did reach a spring, it turned the 

 expedition into pleasure instead of toil. Even in the hot 

 weather the ride toward the plains over the hills was 

 very lovely. It was beautiful to see the red dawn quicken 

 from the first glimmering gray in the east, and then to 

 watch the crimson bars glint on the tops of the fantasti- 

 cally shaped barren hills when the sun flamed, burning 

 and splendid, above the horizon. In the early morning 

 the level beams threw into sharp relief the strangely 

 carved and channelled cliff walls of the buttes. There 

 was rarely a cloud to dim the serene blue of the sky. By 

 the time the heat had grown heavy I had usually reached 

 the spring or pool, where I unsaddled the horse, watered 

 him, and picketed him out to graze. Then, under the 

 hot sun, I would stride off for the hunting proper. On 

 such occasions I never went to where the prairie was ab- 

 solutely flat. There were always gently rolling stretches 

 broken by shallow watercourses, slight divides, and even 

 low mounds, sometimes topped with strangely shaped 

 masses of red scoria or with petrified trees. My object, 

 of course, was, either with my unaided eyes or with the 



