The sheep men, however, seemed to find so many places where there were quicksands--or indications of them--in the vicinity of the place just across from the fort--that they soon moved more than a mile down stream. That is, some of them did. Others moved up, the party separating and leaving a few men guarding the sheep. "As if we'd cross and try to catch any of the woollies!" laughed Bud, motioning to those on guard. It was late in the afternoon when the survey or test of the creek seemed to be completed. The two parties with their poles came back to what might be called the "camp," and a consultation seemed to be taking place. In the still, quiet atmosphere the excited voices carried across the creek, though what was said could not be made out. "They seem to be having a dispute," observed Nort. And this was evident. One bunch of the Greasers evidently held to one opinion, and a minority disagreed. However, in the end the majority ruled and then, to the surprise of our friends, the Greasers broke camp, leaped to their saddles, and started driving their flocks back toward the south, whence they had come. For a few moments our friends, watching this move, did not know how to interpret it. But as it dawned on them that the sheep men were "pulling up stakes," and departing, Billee cried: "We've got the best of 'em, boys! Or, rather, the quicksands worked for us. They've gone back where they came from." "And I hope they stay," sang out Yellin' Kid. This was the hope of all, and it seemed likely to be carried out. As night settled down, the mass of sheep and their herders grew more and more indistinct as greater distance was put between them and those holding the fort. "Well, we'll wait a day or so to see if they don't come back," said Billee, "and then we'll mosey to Diamond X. There's a pile of work waitin' for us there." "And we'd like to get back to Happy Valley," observed Bud. "That's right," agreed Nort and Dick. For the first time since the alarm about the sheep men rest was easier in the fort that night. The danger appeared to be disappearing. The treacherous nature of Spur Creek, with its shifting bottom of quicksands--that might be here one day and a mile farther off the next--had served our friends a good turn. At least it seemed so, until the next morning. Then, as Billee Dobb arose early and, as was his custom, went out for a before-breakfast survey, he uttered a cry. "What's the matter?" asked Bud, coming to the door of the fort. "We crowed too soon, that's what's the matter," answered Billee. "We crowed too soon!" CHAPTER XVIII SKIRMISHES Bud did not need an interpreter to understand what the old cow puncher meant. If he had been at all doubtful, a glance toward where Billee pointed would have solved the mystery. For, some miles down the creek was a cloud of dust, and, not only a cloud of dust, but that which caused the haze--the sheep and their herders.