The steers snuffed and licked their lips as do such animals where fear and curiosity is struggling in them for the mastery. Then as the something moved more distinctly, with terror in their eyes they all turned and burst into the darkness behind them, crashing through the young cottonwoods and over piles of loose driftwood in their mad haste to escape--they knew not what. Still, the "something" came on; slowly it moved through the muddy waters until the form of a man could be distinguished in the uncertain light, carrying some heavy load. At the edge of the river the man placed his burden on the soft sand and dropped down, panting for breath. * * * * * At noon that day, a single horseman rode a tired, sweat-covered animal into a little town on the railroad some thirty miles from the river. Two hours later, away to the north, under the snow-capped Rockies, where the city of Trinidad nestles below the Raton Pass, a lone woman received this brief message: "Dick was accidentally drowned yesterday crossing the river. Wagon will be here tomorrow with body, Please wire instructions. "JAMES SCOTT." [Illustration] PABLO By permission _The Breeder's Gazette_, Chicago, Ill. "And Pablo." "Señor?" And the boy looked inquiringly at the speaker. "You stay right here around this meadow. Here's plenty of feed and water for your band till I come back from town. Savvey?" "Si, Señor." "I won't be gone but three days, Pablo," continued the man, shifting uneasily in his saddle, "an' it's a tough deal to give you, but there's nothing else to do. That misable, onery Mack is drunk down in town an' won't never git out till his money's all gone an' somebody takes him by the scruff of the neck an' kicks him out of the saloon an' loads him onto his horse. You've got twelve hundred ewes an' 'leven hundred of the best lambs that this here range has ever seen. There's ten _negros_, _tres campanas_, an' _cinco chivos_; reckon you can keep track of 'em all?" "Si, Señor," assented the boy, in whose veins flowed the blood of almost three centuries of sheepherders, "_tres_ bells-_campanas_," and three fingers indicated the number of belled ewes in the bunch, "_cinco_ goats," and one outspread hand showed the number of goats with the ewes, "_diez_ black-a markers," holding up all ten fingers. "That's right, _muchacho_," answered the man; "you keep track of your markers an' bells an' goats, an' you won't lose any sheep. There's plenty of water here for your camp, and the sheep won't need any for some days. There's a lot of poison weeds lower down on the mountain, an' it won't do to graze the band that-a-way. Take 'em up toward the top if you go anywhere; but keep your camp here an' stay with it till I come back, savvey?" "Si, Señor," with a quick nod of the head.