ploughed around in the darkness for over an hour, but finally
came to a sudden stop on the banks of the muddy Arkansaw. Right
there I held a council of war with myself, the decision of which
was that it was at least five miles to the wagon.

"After I'd prowled around some little time, a bright flash of
lightning revealed to me an old deserted cabin a few rods below.
To this shelter I turned without even a bid, unsaddled my horse
and picketed him, and turned into the cabin for the night. Early
the next morning I was out and saddled my horse, and the question
was, Which way is camp? As soon as the sun rose clearly, I got my
bearings. By my reasoning, if the river yesterday was south of
camp, this morning the wagon must be north of the river, so I
headed in that direction. Somehow or other I stopped my horse on
the first little knoll, and looking back towards the bottom, I
saw in a horseshoe which the river made a large bunch of cattle.
Of course I knew that all herds near about were through cattle
and under herd, and the absence of any men in sight aroused my
curiosity. I concluded to investigate it, and riding back found
over five hundred head of the cattle we had lost the night
before. 'Here's a chance to make a record with my new boss,' I
said to myself, and circling in behind, began drifting them out
of the bottoms towards the uplands. By ten o'clock I had got them
to the first divide, when who should ride up but the owner, the
old cowman himself--the sure enough big auger.

"'Well, son,' said my boss, 'you held some of them, didn't you?'
'Yes,' I replied, surly as I could, giving him a mean look, 'I've
nearly ridden this horse to death, holding this bunch all night.
If I had only had a good man or two with me, we could have caught