“What’s that yonder? That glow over the hill?”
“Moon. It’s going to be bright as day, too. Them boys of the Lazy C will ride close herd.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you know moonlight makes cattle right ornery? The shadows are so black, you know. Then, mebbe there’s something ‘bout moonlight that affects cows. It does folks, too. Makes ’em right crazy, I hear.”
“I have heard of people being moonstruck,” laughed Ruth. “But that was in the tropics.”
“Howsomever,” Min declared, “it makes the cows oneasy. See! there’s the edge of her. Like silver, ain’t it?”
The moon flooded the whole plain with its beams as it rose from behind the mountains. One might have easily read coarse print by its light.
Every bush and shrub cast a black reflection upon the ground. It was very still—not a breath of air stirring. Far, far away rose the whine of a coyote; and the girls could hear one of the herdsmen singing as he urged his pony around and around the cattle.
“You hear ’em pipin’ up?” said Min, smiling. “Them boys of the Lazy C know their business. Singin’ keeps the cows quiet—sometimes.”
Their own fire died out completely. There was no need for it. By and by Ruth roused Tom Cameron, for it was twelve o’clock. Then both she and Min crept into their own blanket-nests, already arranged. The other girls were sleeping as peacefully as though they were in their own beds at Ardmore College.