“Here you, Russ, Mom says to eat these dried fruits or you’ll never get over those boils.” And she threw a sack of provisions on the floor. “We’re going to live high now, with Miz Peevey and Lena to cook for us.” During the first week of the cow working, Raquel had telegraphed a commission firm in Kansas City that she could ship one thousand head of cattle by March first. She then advised the railroad office at El Paso to have cars ready for her by that day. She found, however, that it would be impossible to get any cars at all until March fifteenth, as both Arizona and New Mexico ranches were shipping. She went all the way into La Cruz to call the freight agent at El Paso on the long distance telephone, and he assured her that he would do all in his power to get her cars earlier, but that she should surely have them not later than March fifteenth. So she notified Kansas City of the change and, not waiting to hear from them, returned to the range. It seemed then as if the extension of time had been providential, for every kind of upset and delay descended on them. Twice there were stampedes at night when the animals were “spooked” by no one knew what. One night a bunch of three-year-olds carried away corral and wire fence and fled into the hills; and they had to be pursued and brought together all over again. The overworked cowponies had to be reënforced by a half dozen fresh horses from the big house. Russ rode night herd, falling asleep in the saddle. Had it not been for Ole Hossfoot’s vigilance and his stories that kept up their spirits, they could not have brought the herd together again in so short a time. At length twelve hundred head were rounded up from the plain and from canyon and basin where they were hiding. Early the next morning they were to be driven over to the ranch corrals. A circle of soapweed flares was lit; as fast as one burned down some one would touch a match to another. The leaping flames warmed the sharp air, and signaled Mom, fifteen miles away, that all was well. They lit up a sea of whitefaces and kept away those sinister, lurking dog shapes that prowled in wide circles about the outfit. Georgie slept, toasting his soaking feet by a bed of dying coals. Raquel drowsed near. Good fortune seemed to be with her, for there was no stampeding, no restlessness. Between eleven o’clock and midnight, as was their habit, the cows got up to graze a bit on the grass which lay beneath their feet. They swallowed it unchewed, turned around, and lay down again, amidst a gentle stirring and rumbling. With a prayer in her heart for no more mishaps, Raquel slept the dreamless sleep of weary muscles and the boundless, pure air of the prairie. Five or six hours later, just as it was growing light, she woke to hear the milling about of the cattle, the mooing, and the call for fresh feeding grounds.