ions was left the task of driving the strange cattle a
couple of miles to the west and leaving them there.

The boys could not well lose the main herd; for, no sooner had they
started on the trail than a great cloud of dust slowly floated up into
the air. Tad, in his position near the head of the line, and well out to
one side of it, was free from this annoyance. The longer the lad was in
the saddle, the stronger he seemed to feel, and the only trace that was
now left of his recent experience among the hoofs of the Mexican steers
was a bump on one side of his head almost as large as a hen's egg.

It was near sundown when the foreman, who had ridden on ahead some time
before, came back with the information that a broad stream that was not
down on his map lay just ahead of them.

"There's not more than thirty feet of swimming water there, and I
believe I'll make a crossing before we go into camp," he announced
briefly.

"How deep is the water?" asked Big-foot Sanders.

"In the middle, deep enough to drown, but on the edges it's fordable.
The cows will be glad of a drink and a swim after the heat of to-day."

With this in mind the cowmen were instructed to urge the cattle along at
a little stronger pace, that they might all get well over before the
night came on.

The animals seemed to feel the presence of water ahead of them, for they
ceased their grazing by the wayside and swung into a rapid pace, such a
pace as always gladdens the heart of the cowboy. The steers held it
until the rays of the setting sun were reflected on the surface of the
broad sluggish stream.

The Pony Riders dashed forward intent upon reaching the stream first.
Tad followed them upon receiving permission from the foreman to do so.

The banks on each side were high and steep, making it far from an ideal
fording place. Stallings, however, thought it better to cross there than
to take the time to work the herd further down. Joining the boys, he
cast his glance up and down the stream to decide whether his judgment
had been correct.

"I thought we were going to cross the river," said Stacy Brown.

"That's exactly what we are going to do," replied the foreman.

"But where's the bridge? I don't see any?" objected the lad.

"Right there in front of you."

"Where?"

"Chunky, there is no bridge," Tad informed him. "We have to wade, just
as the cattle will."

"And swim, too, part of the way," added Stallings.

"But we'll get wet," wailed C