easonable advice," said Balaam, sarcastically. "I could
have told you that now."

"I could have told you when you started," said the Virginian, heating
the coffee for Balaam.

Balaam was eloquent on the outrageous conduct of the horses. He had come
up with them evidently striking back for Butte Creek, with the old mare
in the lead.

"But I soon showed her the road she was to go," he said, as he drove
them now to the water.

The Virginian noticed the slight limp of the mare, and how her pastern
was cut as if with a stone or the sharp heel of a boot.

"I guess she'll not be in a hurry to travel except when she's wanted
to," continued Balaam. He sat down, and sullenly poured himself some
coffee. "We'll be in luck if we make any Sunk Creek this night."

He went on with his breakfast, thinking aloud for the benefit of his
companion, who made no comments, preferring silence to the discomfort of
talking with a man whose vindictive humor was so thoroughly uppermost.
He did not even listen very attentively, but continued his preparations
for departure, washing the dishes, rolling the blankets, and moving
about in his usual way of easy and visible good nature.

"Six o'clock, already," said Balaam, saddling the horses. "And we'll
not get started for ten minutes more." Then he came to Pedro. "So you
haven't quit fooling yet, haven't you?" he exclaimed, for the pony
shrank as he lifted the bridle. "Take that for your sore mouth!" and he
rammed the bit in, at which Pedro flung back and reared.

"Well, I never saw Pedro act that way yet," said the Virginian.

"Ah, rubbish!" said Balaam. "They're all the same. Not a bastard one
but's laying for his chance to do for you. Some'll buck you off, and
some'll roll with you, and some'll fight you with their fore feet. They
may play good for a year, but the Western pony's man's enemy, and when
he judges he's got his chance, he's going to do his best. And if you
come out alive it won't be his fault." Balaam paused for a while,
packing. "You've got to keep them afraid of you," he said next; "that's
what you've got to do if you don't want trouble. That Pedro horse there
has been fed, hand-fed, and fooled with like a damn pet, and what's that
policy done? Why, he goes ugly when he thinks it's time, and decides
he'll not drive any horses into camp this morning. He knows better now."

"Mr. Balaam," said the Virginian, "I'll buy that hawss off yu' right
now."

Balaam shook his head. "You