er-sanguine, but she knew
that unless some unprecedented loss came to her she was well on the way
to the fulfillment of her ambition. A few good years and the "Sheep
Queen of Bitter Creek" would no longer be a title of derision. But these
thoughts were her secrets and she had no confidants. Bowers was the
nearest approach to one, but even he knew nothing of the incentive which
made her seemingly tireless herself and possessed of a driving energy
that made all who worked for her fully earn their wages.

Bowers was preparing breakfast by lamplight when Kate clanged the
triangle of iron to awaken two herders asleep in their "tarps" under the
willows. They crawled out in the clothes in which they had slept,
dishevelled and grumbling.

They breakfasted by lamplight, seated on benches on either side of the
long table improvised from boards and cross-pieces of two-by-fours.
There was no tablecloth and the dishes were of agate-ware as formerly.
Kate ate hurriedly and in silence, but the usual airy persiflage went on
between Bowers and the herders.

"It near froze ice this mornin'," Bowers observed by way of making
conversation. "I was so cold that I had to shiver myself into a
pressperation before I could get breakfast."

"I slept chilly all night," said Bunch, and added, looking askance at
his erstwhile bed-fellow, "They ain't no more heat in Oleson than a
rattler."

"Looks like you'd steal yurself a blanket somewhur," Bowers commented.

"I wouldn't a slept the fore part of last night anyhow," Bunch said
pointedly.

"I hope I didn't keep you awake with my singin'?" Bowers's voice
expressed a world of solicitude.

"Was that you makin' that comical noise?" Bunch elevated his brows in
astonishment. "I thought one of the horses was down, and chokin'."

Bowers slammed a pyramid of pancakes upon the table.

"Why don't you take a shovel, Bunch?" he demanded. "You're losin' time
eatin' with your knife and fingers."

"These sweat-pads of yourn would be pretty fair if 'twant fur the lumps
of sody a feller's allus bitin' into," the herder commented.

"Maybe you'd ruther do the cookin' so you kin git 'em to suit you,"
Bowers retorted, nettled.

"Oh, I ain't kickin'--I lived with Injuns a year and I kin eat
anything."

"You got manners like a pet 'coon," Bowers eyed the herder with disfavor
as that person shoved a cake into his mouth with one hand and reached
for the molasses jug with the other.

Kate paid no attention