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time straight towards me, and as I had 
dropped considerably behind the herd 
in order to breathe some fresh air and 
to be free from the dust, I knew that it 
meant a Jong hard chase for Van and 
his tired horse if I did not head off that 
heifer; I felt I owed him that much. I 
had seen the cowboys do that very 
thing a hundred times that morning, 
but you cannot stand on your toe by 
watching a ballet dancer do it. How- 
ever, I started on a gallop, slanting diag- 
onally towards the creature, swinging 
one arm frantically (1 really could not 
let go with both) and yelling “ Hi, hi!” 
I wondered what would happen next, 
for to be honest, I was exquisitely 
scared. Why scared? It is not for me 
to explain a woman’s dread of the un- 
known and untried. 
I heard Van shouting, but could not 
