up that had been full of coffee the moment before, "an' it's over on that
hogback."

A "hogback," be it understood, is a rugged rocky mound, carved by weather
erosion. It is the result of the level rock strata of the plains suddenly
bending upward and protruding out of the earth.

"That ridge runs north for about two mile, and at the end seems to turn
east into the Big Horn foothills. So far as I can see, no man or critter
has ever been there, for there ain't any water in that crotch, and nothin'
else but heat and rattlers. The point of the thing is this: Spring rains
for a couple of million years have wore a regular watercourse down that
crotch, and I think we can run the sheep over it, single file."

"Yes, but won't they be out on the open Bar T range when we get them
over?"

"No, boss. D'ye think I'd do a thing like that? Honest, the way you
misjudge a man! Well, across that hogback, where it turns to the east,
there is a string of range hills covered with good feed, and leadin'
north, for twenty miles. My idea's this:

"I'll send Pedro with about a hundred rams and wethers directly north from
here, as they're expecting we will. All of them will have bells on, and
Pedro'll have to prod 'em some to make 'em bawl. While he is drawing all
the trouble, we'll hustle the rest of the flock along behind the hogback,
over the pass, and north behind the shelter of the hills."

"Fine, Sims; just the thing!" exclaimed Larkin, taking up with the idea
enthusiastically. "It will be a thundering brute of a man who won't let
the flock north once it has gone twenty miles."

"I allow that perhaps the Bar T punchers will be watchin' that hogback,
although I couldn't find tracks there, new or old. If they ever catch the
sheep in that gully, you're due to wish you'd stayed East."

"Well, that's our risk, and we've got to take it. Now, I think we'd better
roll up for a few hours this afternoon, for we didn't sleep last night,
and I don't believe we will to-night. Have Pedro call us at half-past
four, and have him round up the sheep about five."

Sheep, because of some perverse twist in their natures, cannot graze
standing still. They must walk slowly forward a few steps every few
moments. To-day, however, because of the luxuriant grass along the river,
the progress of the flock had been comparatively slow. Their day's "walk"
would bring them, Larkin figured, to a point less than a mile distant from
the hogback, and an ideal spot f