They had made camp at sunset――and the sight had been an inspiring one. On order from Charley, the lead wagon had turned from the trail and halted; the second wagon had pulled up opposite and also halted; the third wagon had halted behind the first, a little outside of it, with tongue pointing out and the fore wheels about on a line with the other wagon’s rear wheels. The fourth wagon had halted in similar position behind the second wagon. And so forth. Each wagon widened the circle until it was time for them to begin to edge the other way and narrow the circle. At the last the circle was complete, save for an opening at either end. When the ox-chains had been linked from wagon-wheel to next wagon-wheel then the bull corral, as it was called, was finished. Or, no; after the bulls had been unyoked and driven to water and pasture each wagon tongue was hung off the ground, slung in the draw ropes of the front end of the hood. This weight kept the canvas hood pulled taut in case of storm. It took considerable skill in driving to swing the long bull teams and land the wagons just right to form the corral. Yes, and the animals needed to be well trained, too. By the way that all went to work this wagon outfit knew their business. The corral was useful for yoking the bulls and for standing off Indians. No Indians dared to charge a wagon corral when the men inside it had guns and ammunition. The bulls were put out to pasture in charge of two teamsters selected as herders. The men had been divided into four messes. Each mess chose a cook and their water carrier and fuel gatherers and guards――when guard was needed. Davy was in Captain Charley’s mess, which consisted of Charley and Yank, Davy, the cavvy herder, the lead teamster, whose name was Joel Badger, and the extra teamster, Henry Renick, who did the cooking. This was the smallest mess. Each mess had its fire, about which the men lounged after eating, to smoke their pipes and joke and tell stories.