After having circled the herd twice, Tad suddenly discovered a small bunch of cattle that had just scrambled to their feet and had begun grazing a little way outside the circle. The rest of the herd were contentedly chewing their cuds in the moonlight, grunting and blowing over contented stomachs. The lad was not sure just what he ought to do. His first inclination was to call to some of the other guards. Then, remembering the injunction placed upon him by the foreman, he resisted the impulse. "I am sure those cattle have no business off there," he decided after watching them for a few moments in silent uncertainty. "I believe I will try to get them back." Tightening the grip on his reins and clucking to the pony, Tad headed for the steers, that were slowly moving off, taking a step with every mouthful or so. He steered his pony well outside and headed in toward them. The pony, with keen intelligence, forced its way up to the leading steer and sought to nose it around. The animal resisted and swung its sharp horns perilously near to the side of the horse, which quickly leaped to one side, almost upsetting its rider. "Guess I'd better let the pony do it himself. He knows how and I don't," muttered Tad, slackening on the reins. The straying animal was quickly turned and headed toward the herd, after which the pony whirled and went after one of the others, turning this one, as it did the others. In a short time the truants were all back in the herd. "That's the way to do it, young fellow. I told the gang back there that the Pinto had the stuff in him." Tad turned sharply to meet the smiling face of Big-foot Sanders, who, sitting on his pony, had been watching the boy's efforts and nodding an emphatic approval. "You'll make a cowman all right," said Big-foot. CHAPTER IV THE FIRST NIGHT IN CAMP The camp-fire was burning brightly when the first guard, having completed its tour of duty, came galloping in. In a few moments the sound of singing was borne to the ears of the campers. "What's the noise?" demanded Stacy Brown, sitting up with a half scared look on his face. "It's the 'Cowboy's Lament,'" laughed Bob Stallings. "Listen." Off on the plain they heard a rich tenor voice raised in the song of the cowman. "Little black bull came down the hillside, Down the hillside, down the hillside, Little black bull came down the hillside, Long time ago." "I don't call that much of a song," sniffed Chunky contemptuously after a moment of silence on the part of the group. "Even if I can't sing, I can beat that." "Better not try it out on the range," smiled the foreman. "Not on the range? Why not?" demanded the boy. "Bob thinks it might stampede the herd," spoke up Big-foot Sanders. A loud laugh followed at Chunky's expense.