“Didn’t she see him?” Rock muttered. “How come she takes me for him?”
Nona shook her head. “I left her shut in the house when we made that ride yesterday. You can see she takes you for granted.”
Betty undoubtedly did. She prattled away, calling him “Doc.”
“I don’t like to leave her alone much,” Nona explained. “That’s why we’ve got this extra cayuse. There’s a half-breed family lives down river a few miles. One of the girls has been nurse for Betty most all the last year. She’s been away for a while, and I’ve got to get her back. I’ve carried this child hundreds of miles like this, but it’s too hard on her and on me. I’ve got to be free to ride when I need to.”
Rock nodded comprehension. He had been wondering how she managed with the baby.
They traversed long river flats, gray with sage, heavily grassed here and there, spotted with natural meadows of blue-joint hay. Meadow larks caroled. In the still pools, where foaming riffles ended, wild ducks mothered flapping broods. Gray and brown buffalo birds haunted the berry thickets and fluttered out at their approach. Except for this wild life, the bottoms were deserted. Few cattle grazed in those valleys, so hotly scrutinized by a brassy sun. They kept to high ground and cooler airs. And, just as Rock was beginning to wonder if his day’s ride should consist of acting solely as Nona’s escort, she pulled up and pointed to a wide-mouthed draw, opening into the Marias from the north.
“Ride up that about six or eight miles, then swing west, and circle back to the ranch,” she said. “My brand is a TL, same as on your horse. Left rib on cattle. Make a sort of rough estimate of how many you see. You ought to get in about two or three o’clock. I’ll have some dinner cooked.”
CHAPTER VII—MARINERS
Rock’s horse splashed knee-deep through the sparkling Marias, where it raced down a long, pebbled stretch to foam into a black pool. The draw indicated by Nona opened a yawning mouth, coming in from the illimitable spread of Lonesome Prairie, although Rock had yet to learn the name and its aptness. A small creek trickled through this depression. The draw narrowed and lifted, as he rode. He climbed at last to the upper levels, where the eye could span fifty miles. Here cattle lay in the midday heat, along the tiny stream that meandered in a shallow trough, or they fed in bunches on the tops of low rises, where vagrant airs stirred.
Rock counted and estimated, as he jogged from bunch to bunch, noting brands and earmarks, admiring the glint of sun on slender curving horns, the chubby roundness of fat calves and sleek yearlings, and the massive bulk of challenging bulls.