aw came as a welcome relief. The cattle had gradually
weakened, a round dozen had fallen in sacrifice to the elements, and
steps must be taken to recuperate the herd.

"We must loose-herd hereafter," said Joel, rejoicing in the thawing
weather. "A few warm days and the corral will get miry. Unless the
wolves return, we'll not pen the cattle again."

Dell was in high feather. "The winter's over," said he. "Listen to the
creek talking to itself. No, we'll not have to corral the herd any
longer. Wasn't we lucky not to have any more cattle winter-killed! Every
day during the last month I felt that another week of winter would take
half the herd. It was good fighting, and I feel like shouting."

"It was the long distance between the corral and the divides that
weakened the cattle," said Joel. "Hereafter we'll give them all the
range they need and only put them under close-herd at night. There may
be squally weather yet, but little danger of a general storm. After this
thaw, farmers on the Solomon will begin their spring ploughing."

A fortnight of fine weather followed. The herd was given almost absolute
freedom, scattering for miles during the day, and only thrown together
at nightfall. Even then, as the cattle grazed entirely by day, a mile
square of dry slope was considered compact enough for the night. The
extra horses, which had ranged for the winter around Hackberry Grove,
were seen only occasionally and their condition noted. The winter had
haired them like llamas, the sleet had worked no hardship, as a horse
paws to the grass, and any concern for the outside saddle stock
was needless.

The promise of spring almost disarmed the boys. Dell was anxious to
know the value of the bales of peltry, and constantly urged his brother
for permission to ride to the railroad and inquire.

"What's your hurry?" was Joel's rejoinder. "I haven't shouted yet. I'm
not sure that we're out of the woods. Let's win for sure first."

"But we ought to write to Mr. Paul and Mr. Quince," urged the younger
boy, by way of a double excuse. "There may be a letter from them at
Grinnell now. Let's write to our friends in Texas and tell them that
we've won the fight. The spring's here."

"You can go to the station later," replied Joel. "The fur will keep, and
we may have quite a spell of winter yet. Don't you remember the old
weather proverb, of March coming in like a lion and going out like a
lamb? This one came in like a lamb, and we had bet