by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER IX.
A ROUND-UP.
Day by day the herds swelled, and at the end of two months they beganto move in the direction of the general rendezvous. Hugh had soontaken his share in the night-guarding of the cattle, and found itfascinating work. He and Broncho Harry generally worked together. Thefirst watch was preferred, because this allowed a fair night's rest tobe taken afterwards; but at the same time the work was far harder andmore arduous than in the later watches. The cattle were still on theirfeet when the watch began, and on reaching them the two guards began toride round and round them, going in opposite directions. For a time thecattle would go on feeding, then gradually they would lie down, untilperhaps all but five or six were on the ground. At this time, however,the slightest noise would bring them on to their feet again, and thengroups would try to leave the mass to begin to feed again, and thecow-boys had to drive them in.
Upon a dark night they depended more upon their horses' sight thantheir own, for these would of their own accord leave the close-packedcircle and strike out to turn back any animals that had wandered fromit. At last, after an hour or two, the herd would all subside, and thecow-boys would flatter themselves that their work was done. Then one ofthe cattle lying outside would leap to his feet with a snort, alarmed,perhaps, by the sudden scamper of an inquisitive jack-rabbit, which,having come up to examine what was going on, had fled at the approachof one of the cow-boys. With a loud snort the whole herd would thenspring to their feet. Perhaps after a time the herd would lie downagain, reassured by the song of the cow-boys, who from the time theycame on duty always continued to sing, unless they played on a fife orsome other musical instrument, which answered as well as the voice.
At other times a sort of general agitation communicated itself to theherd. Those on the outside finding themselves unable to leave the massowing to the vigilance of their guard, would begin to move along itsedge; the motion would spread, and in a short time the whole mass becircling, or, as the cow-boys call it, weaving. As this action, unlesschecked, always terminated in a general stampede, the duty of thecow-boys was at once to check it. This could only be done by wedgingthemselves into the mass, shouting and using their heavy whips to breakit up and put a stop to the motion. This was dangerous work, not onlyfrom the pressure, but from the sea of horns and angry tossing heads.
Sometimes it would be successful, sometimes it would fail. Above thelowing and bellowing there would be a thunder of hoofs on the sideopposite to that on which they were engaged. Then would rise a shoutof "They are off!" and the cow-boys would edge their horses out of themass, and, one on each flank, gallop at the top of their speed to headthe animals back. As soon as they came near the head of the herd theywould yell and shout at the top of their voices, sometimes dischargingtheir pistols in the air, pressing the animals on the flank graduallyinward, and so checking the speed of the whole until they at last metin front of the herd. Sometimes they would succeed before two or threemiles of ground were passed over; sometimes the wild flight of the herdcould not be checked before morning, when they would be thirty or fortymiles away from their starting-place.
If unable to stop them, the great aim of the cow-boys was to keep themin one body: in that case no great trouble resulted from the stampede.The other men would be out in the morning and the herd would be drivenback to its starting-place. But if the herd broke up, as was sometimesthe case, and scattered over the country, it might take many days ofhard work before they could again be got together. If the night setin wild, so as to render it probable that the cattle would stampede, athird man was placed on the guard. He would aid in keeping them in aslong as possible; but if they broke the circle and went off, his dutywas to gallop back to camp. The cow-boys there would leap to their feetin an instant, run to the horses picketed near, saddled and bridledready for instant use, throw themselves on their backs, and gallop offat the top of their speed in the direction in which the herd had gone.
Thunder-storms were of not infrequent occurrence, and when the cloudswere seen banking up before sunset, and the lightning began to play,the cattle-guard knew that they were in for a troubled night. Longbefore the storm approached close enough to cause actual alarm amongthe cattle they would evince signs of uneasiness, the electricalcondition of the air seeming to affect them. They might lie down, butit was only to rise again, and the distant roll of the thunder seemedto be answered by their restless bellowing. On such a night it neededno message to the camp to bring up help. As the storm approached, andit became evident by the brightness and rapidity of the flashes that itwas going to be an unusually severe one, one by one the men would leavetheir fire or rise from their couches and go out to their horses, pullup and coil their ropes, leap into the saddle, wrap a blanket roundthem, and gallop off to the herd, beginning always to sing as theyapproached it, as otherwise their arrival might stampede the animals.
When the storm came overhead the terror of the cattle rose to thehighest point, and the efforts of the whole of the cow-boys of theoutfit scarcely sufficed to restrain them. The almost incessantflashes of lightning showed a sea of heads and horns, wild eyes, anddistended nostrils. The thunder was continuous, and so terrible weresome of these storms that Hugh felt grateful to the animals that thetrouble they gave, and the incessant efforts and activity required torestrain them, diverted his attention from the terrible war of elementsoverhead. On such a night it was almost certain that sooner or laterthe herd would stampede, and once off, the efforts of their guard weredirected to keep them together rather than to head them. So long asthey remained in a bunch it mattered little whether they were one mileor thirty from the camp.
If headed and held up they would probably start again, and it was lessanxious work to gallop by the side of the frightened mass than to holdthem in check when once their excitement reached its height. In somerespects the ride in such a storm as this was less dangerous thanupon a dark, still night, for the lightning flashes showed not onlythe exact position of the herd, but greatly diminished the chance ofserious falls by lighting up the whole configuration of the country,and showing any obstacles in the way. Even a fall, heavy though itmight be, would be a trifle in comparison to one occurring whileendeavouring to head the herd, for in that case it would entail certaindeath, as life would be trampled out in an instant by the onwardtorrent of cattle.
Hugh had by this time come to understand that even twelve horseswere by no means too much for the use of each man. Wiry and tough aswere the ponies, the men who rode them seemed to be iron. Hugh wasfrequently in his saddle eighteen hours a day, occasionally twenty,and four or even five horses would be thoroughly done up before hiswork was over. Had they been fed with grain a smaller number might havesufficed, for unless unusually pressed they could have been riddenagain on the following day; but fed entirely upon the dry grasses ofthe plains they needed a day's rest before they were again fit forwork.
The herd increased by another thousand before it reached the generalrendezvous of the round-up, for each day six of the men scoured thecountry lying within ten or fifteen miles of the line of march, anddrove in all the cattle met with on their way. At last they reachedthe stream near whose banks the vast herds driven in from all quarterswere gathered. There had been an occasional day's halt on the way togive a needed rest to cattle, horses, and men; but now that the outfithad arrived at the spot indicated before they had left the headquartersstation, there was a rest for four days before operations commenced.
The time was employed by the men in washing, overhauling, and mendingtheir clothes, repairing their saddles, and in sleep. They knew nothingof the position of the other outfits of their own and of the otherranches, but were sure that they all lay within a radius of some twentyor thirty miles--that is to say, all that had as yet arrived. Some hadprobably come up days before, perhaps weeks; others would not be therefor some time; all depended upon the nature of the country to be workedand the distance traversed. There were several other outfits scatteredalong the banks of the s
tream above and below them at distances ofabout half a mile apart, and the overseers of the different rancheswere busy making arrangements for the general campaign. Four days aftertheir arrival a cow-boy rode in with a letter to the overseer of theoutfit. A few minutes later Broncho Harry and four other hands, amongwhom were Hugh and Bill Royce, were ordered to saddle up and to go downto the central station.
The term order is scarcely a correct one, for cow-boys are not men tobe ordered. A cow-boy is asked to do a thing, and asked in civil terms.The request has all the force of an order, but it is not so conveyed.It is put in the form, "I want you to do so and so;" or, "Will yousaddle up and do so and so?" It is just as easy to put it in that formas in any other, and though the cow-boy knows that if he does notcomply with the request he has got to ride back to the headquartersstation and get his money, he does not feel his dignity injured asit would be by a direct order. There are no men more independent thancow-boys. They know their value; and a really good man knows, and thiswas more especially the case at that time, that he has but to ride tothe next ranche to get employment. The consequence is that althoughwilling to work to the utmost of his powers in the interest of hisemployers he by no means regards that employer as a master, but treatseven the chief manager on terms of absolute equality, and insists uponbeing so treated by him in return.
"Broncho Harry," the overseer said, "I want you, Jack Johnson, BowieBob, Chunky Royce, and Lightning Hugh to saddle up and ride down to theforks and help in the round-up. The waggon is going to stay here tillour herd is called up. There are men from the other outfits there; theboss is there, and he will settle about things. Two of the waggons arethere, so you will be all right as to grub. I expect you will be thereabout a fortnight, and then the others will come down and take yourplace."
"Are we to take down our other horses?" the cow-boy asked.
"No. No. 1 outfit will take charge of the cattle as they are cut outand branded. No. 3 will take the next mob. Anyhow, you won't wanthorses except to take you down there."
"All right!" Harry said, and proceeded to call the other four together.
In a few minutes the horses were brought in and saddled, the blanketsrolled up and strapped to the saddles, and the five men chosen, aftereating a hasty meal, started for the point named, which was sometwenty-five miles distant.
"Now you are going to see some fun, Hugh," Bill Royce, who had got thenickname of Chunky from his short, square figure, remarked as they rodealong.
"Yes," Broncho Harry put in, "you will have to look out sharp, Hugh. Itell you it is pretty lively work when you get hold of a six months'calf, and the old savage of a mother is trying her best to hook you.Thar ain't a day that some fellow don't get hurt; but as long as youdon't let a cow jam you against the posts it don't much matter. Thatis what you have got to look to special. A chuck in the air don't muchmatter, nor being knocked a dozen yards or so, but if you get jammed byone of those brutes against a fence, there ain't nothing to do but tobury you."
Three hours' riding brought them to the forks. Two or three largeherds of cattle could be made out far on the plains: another mob couldbe seen not far from the wooded hollow that marked the course of thestream. Horsemen were hovering round them, and there was a confusedmass of animals in what looked to Hugh like a strong stockade near it.A short distance away twelve waggons were drawn up in regular ordersome fifty yards apart. Columns of light smoke rising near them showedthat cooking was going on at each waggon. Quickening the speed of theirhorses the cow-boys rode on until they drew up at the waggon of the[brand circle triangle] ranche.
"Howdy, Pete," Broncho Harry said as he leapt from his horse, to anegro who, with a Mexican assistant, was engaged in cooking.
"Howdy, Broncho Harry."
"Where are the boys, and what's new?"
"Dey is out dar," the negro said, waving his hand in the direction ofthe corral. "Some of dem is working in de herd; some of dem is inside.Irish is in de waggon: him leg broken. New York John got killed threedays back."
"That's bad, Pete. How did he manage that?"
"Old cow hooked him--ran horn right through him body. Irish got tossedagainst posts."
"I suppose there are boys down from the other outfits here, Pete?"
"Yes. Five No. 3, five No. 4. No. 4 came in dis mornin'. Now you comedat make fifteen, and all our own outfit; dat too much for Pete to cookfor."
"Well, you have got someone to help you, Pete, so you ought not togrumble."
Pete made a grimace as much as to signify that he did not consider theassistance of the Mexican to be of much account. Between the men ofthese two races there was a general feud, while the cow-boys lookeddown upon both, and as a rule refused to allow them to work with themexcept in the capacity of cook.
"Where are our horses, Pete?"
"No. 1 horses over dere," the negro said, pointing to a group of horsesout on the plain. "Young Nat looking arter dem."
"Well, we may as well take our horses out there, boys," Broncho Harrysaid, turning to the others. "It is no use picketing them here; weain't likely to want them."
"I will ride them out," Hugh volunteered. The others removed theirsaddles and bridles, and Hugh drove them out to the group on the plain.
"Well, Nat, how are you getting on?" he asked a boy of about fifteenyears old who was lying on the ground with his horse's rein over hisarm near them.
"Oh, I'm all right," the boy replied; "been here a week, and gettingpretty tired of this job, you bet, with nothing to do but just to liehere. Blast all camps, I say!"
"You ought to be at school, you young imp," Hugh laughed.
"I would just as soon be doing that as lying here," the boy said. "Itwill be all right when I get to be a cow-boy, but there ain't much funabout this. Just come in?"
"Yes."
"Who is with you?"
Hugh gave the names.
"Broncho Harry ain't a bad sort," the boy said. "The others ain't ofmuch account."
"You had better tell them so," Hugh said with a smile.
"I would tell them if I thought fit," the boy said angrily. "You don'tsuppose that I'm afraid of any of that mob?"
"I know you are a very bad man, Nat," Hugh said with assumed gravity,"a very dangerous character in a camp; but I hope you won't do any ofthem any harm."
"I sha'n't do them no harm if they don't do me any," the boy said, "butI don't take no sauce from no one."
By this time Hugh had unsaddled Prince, and placing the saddle overhis head and carrying the bridle in his hand, nodded to the boy, andstarted back to the camp, while Prince joined the four horses, whichbegan to graze at a little distance from the rest. Presently two orthree of the other horses came over to the new-comers, and aftera little snorting apparently recognized them as friends with whomthey had been acquainted at the head-station, and this fact beingestablished Prince and his companions were allowed to join them.
There were many boys like Nat out on the plains, for the most partlads who had run away from home, and who were now training up to becow-boys, being engaged in day-herding the horses--work that demandedbut little skill or attention. They were generally regarded with favourby the outfits to which they were attached, for the cow-boys as a ruleare silent men, and the liveliness of the boys amused them. These boysgenerally grew up into the most reckless and dare-devil of cow-boys,speedily picking up the worst language and imitating the wildestfollies of their companions, and they would have been an unmitigatednuisance in the camps had they not been frequently sternly called toorder by men with whom they knew there was no trifling.
It was not until nightfall that the work ceased and the cow-boysreturned to their waggons. They had been working without a break sincedaylight, contenting themselves with eating a piece of bread and coldmeat standing at their work in the middle of the day.
"Well, boys, come in for a spell?" one of them asked as they came up tothe fire where the new arrivals were seated. "We have had a week of it,and it has been a pretty tough job. The cattle are w
onderful wild. Isuppose the thunder has scared them, and we are pretty sure the Injunshave been chasing them lately by the foot-hills. Did you see anythingof the Reds?"
"No; there were no signs of them in the part we searched."
"There were signs further south," the other went on. "We came on twoplaces where they had slaughtered a lot of cattle, and we hear theyhave been making raids down into Mexico, and the troops have been outafter them down by the frontier line. Anyhow, the cattle are wilderthan usual. You have heard, I suppose, that New York John has beenrubbed out?"
"Yes, we heard that, and I have been talking to Irish. He seems gettingon all right."
"Irish is a blamed fool. I told him over and over again he would getinto trouble if he didn't mind; but nothing could persuade him thatthere was any difference between the ways of a Kerry cow and a Texassteer, and of course he came to grief. I should have thought that NewYork John would have known better than to get himself hooked like that;but it were not altogether his fault. He wur holding a calf, and he hadhis eye on the old cow, who had got her dander up pretty considerable.One of the men had roped her, and New York John naturally thought thatshe was safe. So he downed the calf, and the brand was clapped to it,and the young un bawls out, and of course the cow made a fresh rush toget at it, and the rope breaks, and she was on New York John afore hecould look round."
"But how came the rope to break? A man must be a fool and worse to comedown to round-up with a rotten old rope."
"Well, the rope was a new un. You may guess there was a lot of talkover it, and it put our backs up a bit that New York John should getkilled that way. The rope wur a new one, there warn't no doubt aboutthat, but it had been cut half through. Who had done it, in course,no one knew. The men were mad over it, and ef they could have foundout who had done it he would have swung from the limb of a tree in asquirrel's jump. There were two or three men who had had musses withthe chap as the rope belonged to, but no one could say as any of themhad cut his rope. Of course it might have been an accident, but noone thought that very likely. However, there it wur. Somebody cut thefellow's rope to spite him, and it cost New York John his life, whichwas pretty rough on him."
"What is the work for to-morrow?"
"Well, your lot and the men of the other two outfits are to be in theyard. We have got a spell off, except, of course, that we have got tolook after our own bunch of cattle."
"How many are there of them?"
"About 6000 I should say. I expect some of us will start driving themup north day after to-morrow."
The next morning Hugh went down to the cattle-yard as soon as theyhad finished breakfast. Day had just broken, and while they werewaiting for the herd to be brought up he looked round at the yard.The paling was composed of very strong posts six feet high, placedat intervals of two or three inches apart. It had been built three orfour years before, as this place was the most convenient and centralupon the plains. A few waggon loads of timber had been taken out therea fortnight before the arrival of the teams, with a gang of men, whotook up any posts that showed signs of rottenness and replaced themby others, the various ranches in the round-up performing this duty byturns. The fence inclosed a space of upwards of an acre.
Beside the contingent from the [brand circle triangle] ranche someforty or fifty cow-boys from the other ranches were gathered within it.Several fires were lighted for heating the brands, and the overseer whowas in charge of the work for the day divided the men into parties,each group consisting of representatives of four or five differentranches. In a short time a great herd was seen approaching, driven inby a number of mounted cow-boys. The cross-bars were removed from theopening that served as a gate at the upper end of the yard, and thereluctant animals, unable to withstand the pressure of those behind,poured in. Several hundreds entered; the bars were dropped again, andthe animals inclosed stood in a dense group, stamping the ground, andthreatening an attack as the cow-boys approached them.
BRANDING THE CALVES AT THE "ROUND UP."]
These all carried their ropes, some holding them in their hands readyfor throwing, while others had them coiled over their left shoulder,while in their right hands they held their heavy whips. Those whowere to fetch out the calves first approached. Half a dozen ropes werethrown, and the calves were dragged out, struggling and calling, or, asthe cow-boys called it, bawling, to their mothers for assistance. Thecall was not in vain. The cows rushed out furiously to the assistanceof their calves. As each did so the cow-boy whose comrade was draggingthe calf towards one of the fires shouted out the brand on the cow, andthen, cracking their whips, and if necessary using them, they drove theanimal back into the mass and kept her there, while the calf was throwndown and branded with the same mark as its mother.
Hugh was among those told off to fetch out the calves. He had had somepractice, as many of the mavericks found had calves by their side,and these as well as the cows had been branded with the [brand circletriangle]. Another cow-boy assisted him to haul the calf by main forcetowards the fire, and held the rope while Hugh ran up to it. Placinghimself beside it he leaned over it, grasped it by the flank with bothhands, and then lifted it and flung it down on its side. His comradethen ran up and pinned its head to the ground, while Hugh knelt on itshaunches, and the brander came up with a hot iron and marked it. Theiron was held on long enough only to burn off the hair and slightlysinge the hide, and the mark so made was almost indelible.
In addition to this the calf's ears were cut, each ranche having itsparticular mark, such as two long slits and a short one, a square piececut out and a notch on either side of it, a semicircular piece and twonotches, a semicircle and a square, &c. These marks were very durable,but even these often became confused owing to the ears getting tornby a rush through thorns, or by the action of a neighbour's horn in aclose press or during a stampede. It required but small exercise ofstrength to throw a calf of three months old; but many of them wereeight or nine months and nearly full grown, and it needed a greatexertion of strength and a good deal of knack to throw down animalsof this size. Once or twice Hugh had narrow escapes, for some of thecows, in spite of the cow-boys' whips, burst through them and rushed tothe assistance of their calves; but each time the ropes descended overtheir heads or caught them by their legs, and threw them to the groundbefore they reached him.
After an hour of this work he was relieved by one of the other men,and took his turn of the lighter work of keeping back the cows. Whenevery calf in the yard had been branded the gate at the lower end wasopened and the animals driven out, while a fresh mob was admitted fromthe herd. So the work went on until the herd had all passed throughthe yard, and the calves been branded. Then there was a quarter of anhour's rest while another herd was driven up, and the work recommenced.By nightfall some nine thousand animals had passed through the yard,and nearly four thousand calves had been branded. Begrimed with sweatand dust, the cow-boys went down to the stream, where most of thembathed and all had a thorough wash, and then went up to their waggonsto supper.
"How do you feel now?" Broncho Harry asked Hugh when he threw himselfdown by the fire.
"I feel broken up altogether, Harry. My back and loins feel as if Ihad been beaten to a pulp. I believe I have strained every muscle ofmy arms, and my hands and wrists are so stiff that I can't close myfingers."
"Yes; calf-chucking is pretty hard work until you get accustomed toit," the cow-boy said. "It is knack more than strength, though it needsa lot of strength too when you have got a rampagious ten-months calf inyour hands."
"I have not got the knack yet," Hugh said; "and anything over sixmonths I had to have roped by the legs and thrown, but I suppose Ishall be able to tackle them in time."
In the case of the cows that had been branded only a year or two beforethere was no difficulty in recognizing the brand, and so to decide uponthe ownership of the calf; but in the case of older cows the brand andear-marks had in some instances both become so far obliterated thatit was difficult to decide what they had originally b
een. Over thesebrands there were sharp and sometimes angry disputes among the cow-boysbelonging to the different ranches. The case was generally settledby the overseer in charge of the day's operations calling upon threecow-boys belonging to ranches unconnected with the dispute to givetheir opinion as to what the marks had originally been. Their decisionwas accepted by all parties as final, and the cow rebranded as well asthe calf.
"What do you do when the brand is so far gone as to make it altogetherimpossible to say what it was?" Hugh asked.
"It would not get here at all in that state," the cow-boy replied. "Itwould have been rebranded at once by the outfit that first found itjust as if it had been a maverick. But in that case, of course, anycow-boy could claim the cow as belonging to his ranche if he couldconvince the others that the old brand was the one used by it. Theynever brand over the old mark; that must be left as an evidence."
The next day happened to be Sunday, and Hugh felt glad indeed that hehad a day on which to recover from his stiffness. Sundays were alwayskept, except in cases of great emergency, as a day of rest, cow-boystaking the opportunity to wash and mend their clothes, to practiseshooting with their revolvers, or to run races with their horses. Atrounds-up these races afford one of the chief interests to the cow-boy,for rivalry between the various ranches runs high, and the men areready to bet their "bottom dollar" upon the representative of their ownranche.
"Have you ever tried that horse of yours against anything fast, Hugh?"one of his comrades asked.
"No. I am sure he is very fast, but I have never really tried him."
"We were fools not to think of that before," Broncho Harry put in."We ought to have raced him against some of the others, and have foundout what he can do, and then we might have made a soft thing of it. Isuppose you wouldn't mind trying him, Hugh?"
"Not at all. But if he is to race you had better ride him instead ofme. I shouldn't say you were much above nine stone and a half."
"I don't know what you mean by your stone," Harry said. "We don'treckon that way out here. I was a hundred and thirty-five pounds lasttime I weighed at the head-station."
"That is two pounds more than I said. Well, I am certainly twentypounds heavier--I should say twenty-five, and that makes a lot ofdifference."
"I should think so. Still we had best have a trial, Hugh, before wetry to make a match. That is a good horse of yours. I mean the one youfirst mounted and who played such tricks with you. I should like someday to try him against my best, and see how they go. I daresay you willget him again before the round-up is over."
"What length do you run your races here, Broncho?"
"In general they are short dashes, not above half a mile at theoutside, but sometimes a match is made for some distance. Well, whenwe have had dinner we will trot out into the plain. We must go off agoodish bit, and make sure that none of the boys of the other ranchesare within sight."
Accordingly, when dinner was over, Broncho Harry and Hugh went outto the horses. Prince come trotting out as soon as he heard Hugh'swhistle, and Broncho Harry soon dropped his noose over the neck of hisown horse. They then put on the saddles and bridles which they hadbrought with them, and went off at a canter across the plains. Theyran three or four trials. The result showed that Broncho's horse wasquicker in getting off, and that in a quarter of a mile dash there waslittle to choose between them, but at longer distances than this Princewas, in spite of the greater weight he carried, much the faster.
"That horse can go," the cow-boy said admiringly. "I shouldn't mind ifthere were a pack of Redskins coming behind me if I was on his back.The worst of him is he is so good-looking. If he was ugly to look at wemight clean out all the camps, but he looks so good that I am afraid wesha'n't be able to get much money out of him. Well, now, we won't racehim this evening. There are sure to be some matches on, and I will ridemy horse. That way I shall find what there is in the camp, and whetherthere is anything that can beat him as much as your horse can do. Don'tyou go cavorting about on him; just let him run with the rest of themob. Then he won't be noticed. There is too much to be got through inthis camp for men to take stock of the horses. Then if we keep him darkwe can get someone to set up his horse against the best of ours. Wewill put the boys up to it when we get back, or someone may be blowingabout your horse."
There were, as the cow-boy anticipated, a number of races run thatevening. Broncho Harry beat two other horses, but lost his winnings andmore in the third race, when he was beaten somewhat easily by an animalwhich in point of looks was greatly the inferior of his own.
"That is just what I told you, Hugh," he said, when, after unsaddlinghis horse and sending it off to join its companions on the plains, hereturned to the waggon. "I am a blessed fool, for I ought to have knownthat when that cross T's man offered to back that ugly-looking bruteagainst mine, he wur a sight better than he looked. He just shot offlike an arrow at starting. I didn't loose anything afterwards, but Icouldn't pick up them three lengths he got in the first forty yards. Ifwe make a match against him we must see that it ain't less than half amile."
The next morning the work in the stock-yards was resumed and continuedthroughout the week.