his curls--dripping wet they were and
flattened unbecomingly in pasty, yellow rings on his forehead--and eyed
with disfavor a line-backed, dry cow, with one horn tipped rakishly
toward her speckled nose; she blinked silently at wind and heat, and
forged steadily ahead, up-hill and down coulee, always in the lead,
always walking, walking, like an automaton. Her energy, in the face of
all the dry, dreary days, rasped Pink's nerves unbearably. For nearly a
week he had ridden left point, and always that line-backed cow with the
down-crumpled horn walked and walked and walked, a length ahead of her
most intrepid followers.

He leaned from his saddle, picked up a rock from the barren, yellow
hillside, and threw it at the cow spitefully. The rock bounced off her
lean rump; she blinked and broke into a shuffling trot, her dragging
hoofs kicking up an extra amount of dust, which blew straight into
Pink's face.

"Aw, cut it out!" he shouted petulantly. "You're sure the limit, without
doing any stunts at sprinting up-hill. Ain't yuh got any nerves, yuh
blamed old skate? Yuh act like it was milkin'-time, and yuh was headed
straight for the bars and a bran mash. Can't yuh realize the kind uh
deal you're up against? Here's cattle that's got you skinned for looks,
old girl, and they know it's coming blamed tough; and you just bat your
eyes and peg along like yuh enjoyed it. Bawl, or something, can't yuh?
Drop back a foot and act human!"

The Silent One looked across at him with a tired smile. "Let her go,
Pink, and pray for more like her," he called amusedly. "There'll be
enough of them dropping back presently."

Pink threw one leg over the horn and rode sidewise, made him a
cigarette, and tried to forget the cow--or, at least, to forgive her for
not acting as dog-tired as he felt.

They were on the very peak of the ridge now, and the hill sloped
smoothly down before them to the bluff which bounded Quitter Creek. Far
down, a tiny black speck in the coulee-bottom, they could see Wooden
Shoes riding along the creek-bank, scouting for water. From the way he
rode, and from the fact that camp was nowhere in sight, Pink guessed
shrewdly that his quest was in vain. He shrugged his shoulders at what
that meant, and gave his attention to the herd.

The marching line split at the brow of the bluff. The line-backed
cow lowered her head a bit and went unfaltering down the parched,
gravel-coated hill, followed by a few hundred of the fresh