ON THE CATTLE RANGES. 71 



tion there is the regular night guarding and 

 now and then a furious storm or a stampede, 

 when for twenty-four hours at a stretch the 

 riders only dismount to change horses or 

 snatch a mouthful of food. 



I started in the bright sunrise, riding one 

 horse and driving loose before me eight 

 others, one carrying my bedding. They 

 travelled strung out in single file. I kept 

 them trotting and loping, for loose horses are 

 easiest to handle when driven at some speed, 

 and moreover the way was long. My rifle 

 was slung under my thigh ; the lariat was 

 looped on the saddle-horn. 



At first our trail led through winding cou- 

 lies, and sharp grassy defiles ; the air was 

 wonderfully clear, the flowers were in bloom, 

 the breath of the wind in my face was odorous 

 and sweet. The patter and beat of the un- 

 shod hoofs, rising in half-rhythmic measure, 

 frightened the scudding deer ; but the yellow- 

 breasted meadow larks, perched on the bud- 

 ding tops of the bushes, sang their rich full 

 songs without heeding us as we went by. 



When the sun was well on high and the 

 heat of the day had begun we came to a 

 dreary and barren plain, broken by rows of 

 low clay buttes. The ground in places was 

 whitened by alkali; elsewhere it was dull 

 gray. Here there grew nothing save sparse 

 tufts of coarse grass, and cactus, and sprawl- 

 ing sage brush. In the hot air all things 

 seen afar danced and wavered. As I rode 

 and gazed at the shimmering haze the vast 

 desolation of the landscape bore on me, it 

 seemed as if the unseen and unknown powers 



3-3 B 



