Our horses caught, we saddled as hastily as possible; and then at
the top speed of our fresh and eager ponies we swept down on the
chuck wagon. There we fell off our saddles and descended on the
meat and bread like ravenous locusts on a cornfield. The ponies
stood where we left them, "tied to the ground", the
cattle-country fashion.
As soon as a man had stoked up for the afternoon he rode away.
Some finished before others, so across the plain formed an
endless procession of men returning to the herd, and of those
whom they replaced coming for their turn at the grub.
We found the herd quiet. Some were even lying down, chewing
their cuds as peacefully as any barnyard cows. Most, however,
stood ruminative, or walked slowly to and fro in the confines
allotted by the horsemen, so that the herd looked from a distance
like a brown carpet whose pattern was constantly changing--a
dusty brown carpet in the process of being beaten. I relieved
one of the watchers, and settled myself for a wait.
At this close inspection the different sorts of cattle showed
more distinctly their characteristics. The cows and calves
generally rested peacefully enough, the calf often lying down
while the mother stood guard over it.
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