his men, and we all arose and scattered after our horses. There
was quite a cavalcade going our way, and as we halted within the
light of the fires for the different outfits to gather, Flood
rode up, and calling Forrest, said: "In the absence of any word
from old man Don, we might as well all pull out in the morning.
More than likely we'll hear from him at Grinnell, and until we
reach the railroad, the Buford herds had better take the lead.
I'll drag along in the rear, and if there's another move made
from Dodge, you will have warning. Now, that's about all, except
to give your cattle plenty of time; don't hurry. S'long,
fellows."



CHAPTER XI. ALL IN THE DAY'S WORK

The next morning the herds moved out like brigades of an army on
dress-parade. Our front covered some six or seven miles, the
Buford cattle in the lead, while those intended for Indian
delivery naturally fell into position on flank and rear. My
beeves had enjoyed a splendid rest during the past week, and now
easily took the lead in a steady walk, every herd avoiding the
trail until necessity compelled us to reenter it. The old pathway
was dusty and merely pointed the way, and until rain fell to
settle it, our intention was to give it a wide berth. As the
morning wore on and the herds drew farther and farther apart,
except for the dim dust-clouds of ten thousand trampling feet on
a raw prairie, it would have been difficult for us to establish
each other's location. Several times during the forenoon, when a
swell of the plain afforded us a temporary westward view, we