“Don’t worry about the permit,” admonished Mr. Stoddard; “it’s sure.”

“We’ll provision the wagon for a month,” said Joel, “and that will take us home, with or without a bill of health.”

The commissary was stocked, three extra men were picked up, and the herd started northward over the new Ogalalla trail.  A week later it crossed the Kansas Pacific Railroad, when Joel left the herd, returning to their local station.  A haying outfit was engaged, placed under the direction of Manly, and after spending a few days at headquarters, the young cowman returned to the railroad.

The expected permit was awaiting him.  There was some slight danger in using it, without first removing their wintered cattle; and after a conference with Manly, it was decided to scout out the country between their range and the Colorado line.  The first herd of cattle had located nicely, one man being sufficient to hold the dead-line; and taking a pack horse, Joel and Manly started to explore the country between the upper tributaries of the Beaver and the Colorado line.

A rifle was taken along to insure venison.  Near the evening of the first day, a band of wild horses was sighted, the trail of which was back-tracked to a large lake in the sand hills.  On resuming their scout in the morning, sand dunes were scaled, admitting of an immense survey of country, but not until evening was water in any quantity encountered.  The scouts were beginning to despair of finding water for the night, when an immense herd of antelope was sighted, crossing the plain at an easy gallop and disappearing among the dunes.  Following up the game trail, a perfect chain of lakes, a mile in length, was found at sunset.  A venison was shot and a fat camp for the night assured.

The glare of the plain required early observation.  The white haze, heat waves, and mirages were on every hand, blotting out distinct objects during the day.  On leaving the friendly sand hills, the horsemen bore directly for the timber on the Republican, which was sighted the third morning, and reached the river by noon.

No sign or trace of cattle was seen.  The distance between the new and old trail was estimated at one hundred miles, and judging from their hours in the saddle, the scouts hoped to reach the new crossing on the river that evening.  The mid-day glare prevented observations; and as they followed the high ground along the Republican, at early evening indistinct objects were made out on the border of a distant mirage.

The scouts halted their horses.  On every hand might be seen the optical illusions of the plain.  Beautiful lakes, placid and blue, forests and white-capped mountains, invited the horsemen to turn aside and rest.  But the allurement of the mirage was an old story, and holding the objects in view, they jogged on, halting from time to time as the illusions lifted.

Mirages arise at evening.  At last, in their normal proportions, the objects of concern moved to and fro.  “They’re cattle!” shouted Manly.  “We’re near a ranch, or it’s the herd!”