Ned had not been away from the ranche more than three days before he found, to his great surprise and disappointment, that life in the open air was not what his lively imagination had pictured it. Many a boy has been deceived on this point, just as others have been deceived in looking upon the life of a sailor as one of ease and romance. Ned thought that those who lived in camp had nothing to do but sit on the grass, under the spreading branches of some friendly tree, and dream away the days which would be all sunshine; and that when they grew hungry, some fat black-tail or antelope would walk up within easy range of their rifles just on purpose to be shot. The nights would be mild and pleasant, the fire would somehow keep itself burning all the time, whether the necessary fuel was supplied or not, and cook his meals for him without any care or exertion on his part. But one short week’s experience banished all these absurd ideas, and taught him what a cattle-herder’s camp-life really was. It was one of almost constant drudgery and toil. George had three hundred cattle to watch, and as he had only one herdsman to assist him, he was kept busy from morning until night. He and Zeke (that was the name of his herdsman, of whom we shall have a good deal to say by and by), were up and doing long before the sun arose, and while one cooked the breakfast and performed the necessary camp-duties, the other drove the cattle out to pasture and watched them to see that they didn’t stray away. Ned, being inexperienced, and an invited guest beside, was not expected to do anything except to eat his share of the rations, and enjoy himself as well as he could. Sometimes he went out with the cattle-herder, and then he stayed with the camp-keeper; but he soon grew tired of both of them and of their way of life, too. George knew but little about the city and cared less. He took no interest whatever in his cousin’s glowing descriptions of the numerous “scrapes” he had been in, and neither did Zeke, who bluntly told him that he might have been in better business. Ned, on the other hand, cared nothing for the things in which George and Zeke were interested, so there was little they could talk about. But there was plenty of hunting, and in this way Ned passed a portion of each day. He had no luck, however, for he never saw anything in the shape of game larger than Jack rabbits, and he never bagged one of them. The only thing he brought back to camp with him from these hunting excursions was a ravenous appetite, and he had to satisfy it with fried bacon, hard corn-cakes and coffee without any milk. The juicy venison steaks and other luxuries he had expected to fatten on were never served up to him. It rained, too, sometimes, and Ned could find no shelter under the dripping trees. There was no fun at all in going to bed in wet clothes, and Ned always shuddered and wished himself safe at the rancho when his cousin said to him, as he did almost every night—