that way in Arizona. Spaces develop of whose existence you had
not the slightest intimation. Hidden in apparently plane

surfaces are valleys and prairies. At one sweep of the eye you
embrace the entire area of an eastern State; but nevertheless the

reality as you explore it foot by foot proves to be infinitely
more than the vision has promised.

Beyond the hill we stopped. Here our party divided again, half
to the right and half to the left. We had ridden, up to this

time, directly away from camp, now we rode a circumference of
which headquarters was the centre. The country was pleasantly

rolling and covered with grass. Here and there were clumps of
soapweed. Far in a remote distance lay a slender dark line

across the plain. This we knew to be mesquite; and once entered,
we knew it, too, would seem to spread out vastly. And then this

grassy slope, on which we now rode, would show merely as an
insignificantstreak of yellow. It is also like that in Arizona.

I have ridden in succession through grass land, brush land,
flower land, desert. Each in turn seemed entirely to fill the

space of the plains between the mountains.
From time to time Homer halted us and detached a man. The

business of the latter was then to ride directly back to camp,
driving all cattle before him. Each was in sight of his right-

and left-hand neighbour. Thus was constructed a drag-net whose
meshes contracted as home was neared.

I was detached, when of our party only the Cattleman and Homer
remained. They would take the outside. This was the post of

honour, and required the hardest riding, for as soon as the
cattle should realise the fact of their pursuit, they would

attempt to "break" past the end and up the valley. Brown
Jug and I congratulated ourselves on an exciting morning in

prospect.
Now, wild cattle know perfectly well what a drive means, and they

do not intend to get into a round-up if they can help it. Were
it not for the two facts, that they are afraid of a mounted man,

and cannot run quite so fast as a horse, I do not know how the
cattle business would be conducted. As soon as a band of them

caught sight of any one of us, they curled their tails and away
they went at a long, easy lope that a domestic cow would stare at

in wonder. This was all very well; in fact we yelled and
shrieked and otherwise uttered cow-calls to keep them going, to

"get the cattle started," as they say. But pretty soon a little
band of the many scurrying away before our thin line, began to

bear farther and farther to the east. When in their judgment
they should have gained an opening, they would turn directly back

and make a dash for liberty. Accordingly the nearest cowboy
clapped spurs to his horse and pursued them.

It was a pretty race. The cattle ran easily enough, with long,
springy jumps that carried them over the ground faster than

appearances would lead one to believe. The cow-pony, his nose
stretched out, his ears slanted, his eyes snapping with joy of

the chase, flew fairly "belly to earth." The rider sat slightly
forward, with the cowboy's loose seat. A whirl of dust,

strangelyinsignificant against the immensity of a desert
morning, rose from the flying group. Now they disappeared in a

ravine, only to scramble out again the next instant, pace
undiminished. The rider merely rose slightly and threw up his

elbows to relieve the jar of the rough gully. At first the
cattle seemed to hold their, own, but soon the horse began to

gain. In a short time he had come abreast of the leading animal.
The latter stopped short with a snort, dodged back, and set out

at right angles to his former course. From a dead run the pony
came to a stand in two fierce plunges, doubled like a shot, and

was off on the other tack. An unaccustomed rider would here have
lost his seat. The second dash was short. With a final shake of

the head, the steers turned to the proper course in the direction
of the ranch. The pony dropped unconcernedly to the shuffling

jog of habitual progression.
Far away stretched the arc of our cordon. The most distant

rider was a speck, and the cattle ahead of him were like maggots
endowed with a smooth, swift onwardmotion. As yet the herd had

not taken form; it was still too widely scattered. Its units, in
the shape of small bunches, momently grew in numbers. The

distant plains were crawling and alive with minute creatures
making toward a common tiny centre.

Immediately in our front the cattle at first behaved very well.
Then far down the long gentle slope I saw a break for the upper

valley. The manikin that represented Homer at once became even
smaller as it departed in pursuit. The Cattleman moved down to

cover Homer's territory until he should return--and I in turn
edged farther to the right. Then another break from another

bunch. The Cattleman rode at top speed to head it. Before long
he disappeared in the distant mesquite. I found myself in sole

charge of a front three miles long.
The nearest cattle were some distance ahead, and trotting along

at a good gait. As they had not yet discovered the chance left
open by unforeseen circumstance, I descended and took in on my

cinch while yet there was time. Even as I mounted, an impatient
movement on the part of experienced Brown Jug told me that the

cattle had seen their opportunity.
I gathered the reins and spoke to the horse. He needed no

further direction, but set off at a wide angle, nicely
calculated, to intercept the truants. Brown Jug was a powerful

beast. The spring of his leap was as whalebone. The yellow
earth began to stream past like water. Always the pace increased

with a growing thunder of hoofs. It seemed that nothing could
turn us from the straight line, nothing check the headlong

momentum of our rush. My eyes filled with tears from the wind of
our going. Saddle strings streamed behind. Brown Jug's mane

whipped my bridle band. Dimly I was conscious of soapweed,
sacatone, mesquite, as we passed them. They were abreast and

gone before I could think of them or how they were to be dodged.
Two antelope bounded away to the left; birds rose hastily from

the grasses. A sudden chirk, chirk, chirk, rose all about me.
We were in the very centre of a prairie-dog town, but before I

could formulate in my mind the probabilities of holes and broken
legs, the chirk, chirk, chirking had fallen astern. Brown Jug

had skipped and dodged successfully.
We were approaching the cattle. They ran stubbornly and well,

evidently unwilling to be turned until the latest possible
moment. A great rage at their obstinacy took possession of us

both. A broad shallow wash crossed our way, but we plunged
through its rocks and boulders recklessly, angered at even the

slight delay they necessitated. The hardland on the other side
we greeted with joy. Brown Jug extended himself with a snort.

Suddenly a jar seemed to shake my very head loose. I found
myself staring over the horse's head directly down into a

deep and precipitous gully, the edge of which was so cunningly
concealed by the grasses as to have remained invisible to my

blurred vision. Brown Jug, however, had caught sight of it at
the last instant, and had executed one of the wonderful stops

possible only to a cow-pony.
But already the cattle had discovered a passage above, and were

scrambling down and across. Brown Jug and I, at more sober pace,
slid off the almost perpendicular bank, and out the other side.

A moment later we had headed them. They whirled, and without the
necessity of any suggestion on my part Brown Jug turned after

them, and so quickly that my stirrupactually brushed the ground.
After that we were masters. We chased the cattle far enough to

start them well in the proper direction, and then pulled down to