inally appealed to his
horse, and within a few minutes Dog-toe was in a road and champing the
bits against restraint. The boy dismounted, and a burning match revealed
the outlines of a road under the soft snow. The horse was given rein
again and took the road like a hound, finally sweeping under a tree,
when another halt was made. It was the hackberry at the mouth of the
cove, its broken twigs bespoke a fire which Dell had built, and yet the
mute witness tree and impatient horse were doubted. And not until
Dog-toe halted at the stable door was the boy convinced of his error.

"Dog-toe," said Dell, as he swung out of the saddle, "you forgot more
than I ever knew. You told me that I was wrong, and you pled with me
like a brother, and I wouldn't listen to you. I wonder if he'll forgive
me?" meditated Dell, as he opened the stable door.

The horse hurriedly entered and nickered for his feed. "Yes, you shall
have an extra ration of corn," answered his rider. "And if you'll just
forgive me this once, the lesson you taught me to-night will never be
forgotten."

It proved to be early in the evening--only eight o'clock. Even though
the lesson was taught by a dumb animal, it was worth its cost. Before
offering to sleep, Dell collected all the articles that were to make up
the pack, foddered the horses, set the alarm forward an hour, and sought
his blankets for a short rest. Several times the howling of the wind
awoke him, and unable to sleep out the night, he arose and built a fire.
The necessity of a pack saddle robbed him of his own, and, substituting
a blanket, at the appointed hour before dawn he started, with three
days' rations for man and horse. The snow had ceased falling, but a raw
March wind blew from the northwest, and taking his course with it, he
reached the divide at daybreak. A struggling sun gave him a bearing from
time to time, the sand dunes were sighted, and angling across the course
of the wind, the trail of the herd was picked up in the mushy snow. A
bull was overtaken, resting comfortably in a buffalo wallow; three
others were passed, feeding with the wind, and finally the sun burst
forth, revealing the brakes of the Prairie Dog.

Where the cattle had drifted barely two miles an hour, sustenance was
following at a five-mile gait. The trail freshened in the snow, narrowed
and broadened, and near the middle of the forenoon the scattered herd
was sighted. The long yell of warning was answered only by a tiny