did not attempt to leave the corral until after darkness had
settled over the scene. Then with much persuasion he arose and limped
along after his mother. But before he could reach the river, which was
at least half a mile away, he sank down exhausted. If he could only
slake his terrible thirst he felt he might possibly survive, for the
pain had eased somewhat. With every passing breeze of the night he
could scent the water, and several times in his feverish fancy he
imagined he could hear it as it gurgled over its pebbly bed.

Just at sunrise, ere the heat of the day fell upon him, he struggled
to his feet, for he felt it was a matter of life and death with him to
reach the river. At last he dragged his pain-racked body down to the
rippling water and lowered his head to drink, but it seemed as if
every exertion tended to reopen those seared scars, and with the one
thing before him that he most desired, he moaned in misery. A little
farther away was a deep pool. This he managed to crawl to, and there
he remained for a long time, for the water laved his wounds, and he
drank and drank. The sun now beat down on him fiercely, and he must
seek some shady place for the day, but he started reluctantly to
leave, and when he reached the shallows, he turned back to the comfort
of the pool and drank again.

A thickety motte of chaparral which grew back from the scattering
timber on the river afforded him the shelter and seclusion he wanted,
for he dared not trust himself where the grown cattle congregated
for the day's siesta. During all his troubles his mother had never
forsaken him, and frequently offered him the scanty nourishment of
her udder, but he had no appetite and could scarcely raise his eyes to
look at her. But time heals all wounds, and within a week he followed
his dam back into the hills where grew the succulent grama grass which
he loved. There they remained for more than a month, and he met his
speckled playmate again.

One day a great flight of birds flew southward, and amidst the cawing
of crows and the croaking of ravens the cattle which ranged beyond
came down out of the hills in long columns, heading southward. The
line-back calf felt a change himself in the pleasant day's atmosphere.
His mother and the dam of the speckled calf laid their heads together,
and after scenting the air for several minutes, they curved their
tails--a thing he had never seen sedate cows do before--and stampeded
off to the south.