Part 7 (1/2)

I re, three or four of us together It was about seven o'clock, and we had been talking over matters in connection with the decision of the ”boss” to drive a bunch of cattle down to King City, where they would be entrained for 'Frisco

The ”boss” was up at the other ranche He had gone to ask the old settler to give us a hand with the cattle next day at the rodeo, or ”round-up”

He hadn't offered to take me with him I suppose that was Edna's fault

Anyhoe had been sitting there discussing things, e heard Bain co his horse, in quite a noisyhard, and I wondered what Edna had been saying to him But it wasn't Edna at all He had coher up the valley, and had passed the cornfields, in which he had noticed unusual ated, and had found that a bunch of wild cattle had broken down the fences, and were eating and tra down the corn

A hasty consultation decided that we should ht raid on the beasts, and take asCity with our own bunch We had been feeling rather sleepy, but this news made us at once very much alive However, we decided not to undertake the raid until the next night The wild cattle would be gone with the ht, but they would return at dark

We went to bed, whichourselves up in our blankets on the floor I lay awake for so It is not all play, this raiding of wild cattle It is a risky business, and you must have expert lassoers to lead the way, or there will be trouble

Next day ent up to the old settler's ranche, ”Edna's house,” as we called it, up the valley, and there we secured the help of so, waiting for the hour of ht at which to sally forth Edna had expressed a desire to come too! She was a fine horsewoman, and fearless, and she loved excitement of this sort Tom promised to take care of her, so she was permitted to join our party Lucky Tom!

As the little clock on the settler's mantelpiece struck twelve, we saddled our horses and set off for the corn-brake I was keen on seeing how these felloere going to capture the wild cattle, but I was too inexperienced to take a very active part at the tiht in the hollow of the valley, on a flat on the eastern bank of the dry bed of the river We rode down together--never a word being spoken on the way--to where a group of oak-trees raised their stately heads, and there we held our final council of war Bain, anxious to give a tenderfoot a chance of seeing as et off my horse and climb the bank, from which I should obtain a view of the field and of the cattle as they were feeding I was very quiet, for the beasts have ears rather sharper than anything Toiven me his directions in a whisper

So I climbed the bank and looked over the cornfield, and there in the centre I could see a ss, about three hundred yards away I went quietly back to the river-bed, and found that ” up their saddles

A moment later I was told off with a vaquero (cowboy) to ride up the bed of a creek that ran at right-angles to the river and parallel with the cornfield We were to try to ”head” the cattle, and so prevent the away into the ain, where we should have had to leave theood cover for three parts of the way Then it shallowed, and we soon were able to see, froht we had been very quiet indeed, but we noticed a hurriedthe beasts, and with a cry ”They're off!”his spurs into his horse and was off like the wind himself And I after him

We dashed into the corn, and raced like est sensation in the world, galloping in thecorn, which was up to our horses'

shoulders It alloped madly on after my co cattle to wake the , too, and, so soon as our voices were heard, there was a chorus in reply from where we had left the rest of our party

”We shall never head them,” I cried

”Perhaps not, but we'll try,” answered the vaquero, as we tore onward I thought we had not the slightest hope of heading theround, and at every leap over a rough incline I thought my horse would break his neck and oats are those horses of the hills At length, for some reason or other, the cattle wheeled and went back doards the river, and we, of course, followed

Suddenly, two of theht be of some little use, even if I were not an expert lassoer But those tild cattle knew too ully, dashed up the other side and away at full gallop into the hills I let theo If I had pursued the this now As it was, it was a marvel I had not broken my neck Only my splendid horse had saved me

So I rode back to the oak-trees, and there--there was not a sign of life All was as silent and still as if nothing had ever disturbed Nature's quiet I reht A half-ht silver, the tops of the ainst the sky as if they were cut out of cardboard, and all was so calhts elsewhere The htness; the air not the clearness nor the stillness that it has there

Where were et breathing-space, so I sat there in the saddle, waiting I pulled my coat around my shoulders, for the air was chilly It was then about 2 AM

A sharp sound disturbedover the rocky river-bed The rattle was so clear, so distinct, in that at before ht

Then, in a few allop, with his head lon and neck extended--at first apparently riderless, but as he ca over the off-side, and, as the frightened steed tore past me, I saas a woman

It was Edna Who else could it be? Her left foot, still in the stirrup, had coht over the saddle with her as she fell, and she was clinging desperately with her hands to the horse's long mane, but so lon that, at the pace, it seemed to be iht of how I should save her, I galloped after her lish saddle and without a lasso--since towould have been of little use on such a risky expedition as we had undertaken; but I urged alloped him at his utht be able to clutch a rein and stop the runaway But Edna's horse was the fleetest of any on the ranche; e, and so I gained not a whit on the horse with his iirl hang on like that? Not th

Then, ahead of us, in the distant ures A horsee steer that bellowed as it endeavoured to secure a free run up into the hills, there to be safe from its mortal enemy I yelled at the top of my voice, with all the breath I had left