ground and this acted like fuel in reviving the phosphor. Several
hours before dawn, great sheets of the fiery elements chased each
other across the northern sky, lighting up our surroundings until
one could have read ordinary print. The cattle stood humped or
took an occasional step forward, the men sat their horses, sullen
and morose, forming new resolutions for the future, in which
trail work was not included. But morning came at last, cool and
cloudy, a slight recompense for the heat which we had endured
since leaving Dodge.

With the breaking of day, the herd was turned back on its course.
For an hour or more the cattle grazed freely, and as the sun
broke through the clouds, they dropped down like tired infantry
on a march, and we allowed them an hour's rest. We were still
some three or four miles eastward of the trail, and after
breakfasting and changing mounts we roused the cattle and started
on an angle for the trail, expecting to intercept it before noon.
There was some settlement in the Smoky River Valley which must be
avoided, as in years past serious enmity had been engendered
between settlers and drovers in consequence of the ravages of
Texas fever among native cattle. I was riding on the left point,
and when within a short distance of the trail, one of the boys
called my attention to a loose herd of cattle, drifting south and
fully two miles to the west of us. It was certainly something
unusual, and as every man of us scanned them, a lone horseman was
seen to ride across their front, and, turning them, continue on
for our herd. The situation was bewildering, as the natural
course of every herd was northward, but here was one apparently
abandoned like a water-logged ship at sea.