"Well, when it becomes dark we'll lose sight of Long Tom, and we're likely to drift, because, unless the cattle are driven into the storm, they'll turn tail to it and go the other way."
"I can't see Long Tom now."
"I can, although the snow almost blots it out. There it is right in the northwest. I can just make it out. The herd is drifting south of it now. Better get over on your point, and head them up this way a bit."
Soon the herd was driving forward in the right direction again.
But suddenly the darkness came down like of pall of black smoke, shutting out everything, and the wind increased in violence, rising with a howl and a shriek like some enormous and terrible animal in rage.
"It's all off," said Ted to himself, with a sigh.
The cattle came to a stop.
"Keep them going!" shouted Ted, riding back frantically along the line.
The cow-punchers dashed among the animals, shouting and beating them with their quirts, and managed to get them started again, but it was only for a short time, for again they stopped, bellowing, the leaders milling and throwing everything into confusion.
"That settles it," shouted Ted to Bud. "They're going to drift all night if we don't stop them."