"Oh, short for Mexican. So many of the sheep herders are Mexicans and Bascoes nowadays that people call them all 'Mexes.' That stick up there with the rag on it marks the line between his range and the next herder's and neither of them can cross it to feed. The sheep are all on their way to the reserve now, in the mountains on the other side of the prairie. They stay here in the foothills as long as the grass lasts, then work north. That's when our trouble begins. I expect they'll bother us a lot, since I haven't finished fencing." "Why, I thought you said you had fenced," Harry exclaimed. "Just the main springs. Not the whole hundred and sixty acres." "It must be hard to tell where your land begins and ends," Harry laughed thoughtlessly. "Oh, I guess I know what's mine," Rob said rather dryly. "It takes considerable wire and posts to get around that much land and money to buy 'em. I had to work like a steer this winter so as to have some cash to put into the place. To comply with the homestead law I've got to have a house built before next winter and clear and plow just so much land. Besides the glen that's fenced, there's two miles of fencing and cross fencing for corral and garden. I'll have to work outside for wages too, to get my feed for next winter; hay and grain for the critters and groceries for you and me." As he told off the items slowly in a matter-of-course way, Harry realized what a big thing it was he had undertaken. Although he had joked about it, she knew he did not consider it a small one by any means, and for a time she felt not only disappointed by the contrast to what she had expected, but vaguely oppressed. There was too much else to think of, however, to brood over that. As the day waned they climbed steadily higher. The road became rougher. Often Harriet held her breath as the horses scrambled over a lava ridge, lurched down into a wallow of mud and struggled out only to strike a worse spot farther on. At the top of each rise Rob paused to breathe the team. Several times he and Harriet got down and walked beside the wagon. "Tired?" he asked. "It's tough the first time you come over this trail, but you'll get used to it." "I don't mean to travel it often enough." "You may have to," Rob warned her. "When I'm too busy to go to town I'll send you." Harry looked back at the rough trail and laughed. "As if I'd travel this rough road alone!" It was after six o'clock when they topped the last rise and, saw ahead in the shadow of the great cañon walls the string of buildings, haystacks and corrals of the Hyslop ranch. "We'll camp here, outside the fence," Rob said, as he turned off into the brush and pulled up beside the stream flowing from a fissure in the cañon wall. It was growing colder now, a dry, clear cold that stirred Harriet's blood and made her realize how hungry she was. While Rob unhitched and fed the team she gathered dry sticks for the fire.