The men of the outfit had little sleep during the first two days of the
drive. Nights found them hot, tired, and dusty, but with no prospect
of an uninterrupted sleep. Still there was no complaint.
On the third night, the herd having been driven about forty miles, the
men began to show the effects of their sleepless vigil.
They had bedded the herd down on a level between some hills, near a
rocky ford over which the waters of a little stream trickled.
Buck and Andy were on their ponies, slowly circling the herd, singing
to the cattle, talking to them, using all their art and persuasion to
induce the herd to cease the restless "milling" that had begun with the
effort to halt for the night.
Around the camp fire, which had been built at the cook's orders, were
Sanderson, Carter, Bud, Sogun, Soapy, and the Kid. Carter stood at a
little distance from the fire, watching the herd.
"That's a damned nervous bunch we've got, boys," he called to the other
men. "I don't know when I've seen a flightier lot.
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