But Rhoda would not agree to this, and the four girls
retired at a reasonable hour. Walter slept under
one of the cook wagons, rolled up in a blanket like
the cowboys themselves. Everything seemed peaceful
when they went to bed, and there surely was no sign
of one of the tornadoes Mr. Hammond had talked about.
The girls, at least, slept just as soundly in their
tent as they had in the beds at the ranch house.
The camp was aroused betimes the next morning.
Breakfast was eaten by starlight. Immediately
the first gang of horses, cut out of the main herd,
was driven down.
Walter and the girls were in the saddle as early as
anybody. Of course, none of the visitors could
swing a rope; but Rhoda showed them how to ride on
the flank of the herd and keep the young and wild
horses from running free. They had all to be driven
into the wide entrance to the corral.
It was inside this barrier that the cowboys rode among
the frightened herd and roped those that were to be
branded. Even Rhoda did a little of this before
the day was over, and her friends thought it was quite
wonderful that she showed no fear of the plunging
and squealing horses.
But they were much interested, even if the smell of
scorching flesh was not pleasant. Walter declared
he was going to learn to throw a lariat. But
his sister shook her head and shut her eyes tight every
time she saw a glowing iron taken from one of the fires.
“Never mind,” Nan said. “It
is enormously interesting, and we shall likely never
see the like again. Just think of growing up like
Rhoda, among scenes of this kind. No wonder she
seemed different from the rest of us girls when she
came to Lakeview Hall.”
THE OUTLAW
The first day of the round-up was done, and well done,
Mr. Hammond said. The girls had been in the saddle
for more than twelve hours; and how they did sleep
this second night under canvas!
Bess wanted to say something about plans for hunting
the Mexican bandit’s treasure before she fell
asleep; but actually she dropped into slumber in the
middle of the word “treas-ure” and never
finished what she was going to say.
Nan, however, awoke long before dawn again. She
felt lame and stiff, like an old person afflicted
with rheumatism. The unusualness of the previous
day’s activities caused this stiffness of the
joints and soreness of her muscles.
She heard the fires crackling and saw the reflection
of firelight on the side of the tent, so she knew
the cooks were astir. But nobody else seemed
to be moving yet, and Nan might have turned over for
another nap had it not been for a peculiar sound which
suddenly smote upon her ear, and seemingly from a
long way off.
After hearing this for a minute or two, she got up
and crept to the tent entrance. The flap was
laid back for the sake of ventilation, and with her
kimono hunched about her shoulders, she crouched in
the doorway and looked out across the open space before
the grove in which the camp was pitched. It was
just between dark and dawn when strange figures seem
to move in the dimness of out-of-doors. Yet Nan
knew there really was nothing stirring there on the
plain. The herd was much farther away.
