Time and again the ponies fairly sat on their haunches
and slid when negotiating a sudden stop, while quick turns meant
the rapid scramblings that only a cow-horse could accomplish.
Nevertheless the work went forward unchecked. The men of the
other outfits cut their cattle into the stray-herd. The latter
was by now of considerable size, for this was the third week of
the round-up.
Finally everyone expressed himself as satisfied. The largely
diminished main herd was now started forward by means of shrill
cowboy cries and beating of quirts. The cattle were only too
eager to go. From my position on a little rise above the
stray-herd I could see the leaders breaking into a run, their
heads thrown forward as they snuffed their freedom. On the mesa
side the sentinel riders quietly withdrew. From the rear and
flanks the horsemen closed in. The cattle poured out in a steady
stream through the opening thus left on the mesa side. The
fringe of cowboys followed, urging them on. Abruptly the
cavalcade turned and came loping back. The cattle continued ahead
on a trot, gradually spreading abroad over the landscape, losing
their integrity as a herd. Some of the slower or hungrier
dropped out and began to graze.
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