ard sunset and we came in the twilight to the
little town of Lyman where the only hostel was The Marshal, half home
and half hotel, kept by Mrs. Marshall. As we came into the town the
high, snowy Wahsatch range was on our right. We had first seen its
distant peaks about twenty-four miles out of Evanston.

Mrs. Marshall gave us an abundant supper and we slept dreamlessly in a
little upper room with one window. Upon what a glory of sunrise did that
little upper window look out that morning of the first of July! The vast
landscape was bathed in lavender light, the Wahsatch range and the
mountains of our Eastern pathway catching the first glory of the coming
sun, while the plains were in deeper lavender.

The village street looked like a pathway of lavender. The little wooden,
painted houses, the barns, some red, some grey and unpainted, all glowed
with transforming light and color. Robins and meadow larks were singing.
Far, far to the northeast was a purple horizon line. The air was like
wine. I stayed at the window until I was half frozen in the cool morning
air, entranced by it all.

[Illustration: 1. Wyoming Cattle. 2. The Marshall Hotel, Lyman, Wyoming.
3. Before Shearing, Medicine Bow, Wyoming. 4. After Shearing, Medicine
Bow, Wyoming.]

It was at Lyman that we heard talk of the ever smouldering feud between
cattlemen and sheepmen. Not far from Lyman is the "dead line" over which
sheepmen are not allowed to take their sheep. On the other side of this
stern boundary are the cattlemen, and they have issued a warning to the
sheepmen which they have more than once carried out. A few years ago a
sheepman either purposely or carelessly got over the dead line with his
sheep. He was mysteriously shot and two hundred of his sheep were killed
in one night. No one knows who the murderer was. Back in the shadows
looms the threat of the cattlemen, grim and real.

We had been told in Wyoming of the buying of a big ranch by adjacent
ranch people in order that no sheepman might come in to share the water
and the ranges with the cattleman.

Cattle will not feed, they tell us, where sheep have fed, as the sheep
tear up the earth and also graze very closely. It is impossible for
sheep and cattle to graze comfortably on the same ranges.

We left Lyman in high spirits after a good breakfast, driving along with
the Wahsatch mountains on our right and with detached mountains
continually appearing on the horizon as we moved eastward.