"Why, no," replied Joel rather scornfully, from the security of his bunk; "who would be afraid? They are just like any other folks." Dell was skeptical. "Not like the pictures of cowboys?--not shooting and galloping their horses?" "Why, you silly boy," said Joel, with contempt; "there wasn't a shot fired, their horses were never out of a walk, never wet a hair, and they changed to fresh ones at noon. The only difference I could see, they wore their hats at dinner. And they were surely cowboys, because they had over three thousand big beeves, and had come all the way from Texas." "I wish I could have gone," was Dell's only comment. "Oh, it was a great sight," continued the privileged one. "The column of cattle was a mile long, the trail twice as wide as a city street, and the cattle seemed to walk in loose marching order, of their own accord. Not a man carried a whip; no one even shouted; no one as much as looked at the cattle; the men rode away off yonder. The herd seemed so easy to handle." "And how many men did it take?" insisted Dell. "Only eleven with the herd. And they had such queer names for their places. Those in the lead were _point_ men, those in the middle were _swing_ men, and the one who brought up the rear was the _drag_ man. Then there was the cook, who drove the wagon, and the wrangler, who took care of the horses--over one hundred and forty head. They call the band of saddle horses the remuda; one of the men told me it was Spanish for relay--a relay of horses." "I'm going the next time," said Dell. "Mr. Quince said he would buy us a cow from the next herd that passed." "These were all big beeves to-day, going to some fort on the Yellowstone River. And they had such wide, sweeping horns! And the smartest cattle! An hour before noon one of the point men gave a shrill whistle, and the whole column of beeves turned aside and began feeding. The men called it 'throwing the herd off the trail to graze.' It was just like saying _halt_! to soldiers--like we saw at that reunion in Ohio." "And you weren't afraid?" timidly queried the younger brother. "No one else was afraid, and why should I be? I was on horseback. Stop asking foolish questions and go to sleep," concluded Joel, with pitying finality, and turned to the wall. "But suppose those big Texas beeves had stampeded, then what?" There was challenge in Dell's voice, but the brother vouchsafed no answer. A seniority of years had given one a twelve hours' insight over the other, in range cattle, and there was no common ground between sleepy bedfellows to justify further converse. "I piloted in the doctor, anyhow," said Dell defensively. No reply rewarded his assertion.